


The Crimson Stained Ice

by KrisLetang



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Child Abuse, Depression, F/M, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-04-16 05:58:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 45
Words: 49,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4613805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrisLetang/pseuds/KrisLetang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the right person can see through your façade and spot the demons within.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. PREVIEW

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a link to the cover that I just added
> 
> Sorry about any ads on the page along with it

[COVER LINK](http://postimg.org/image/ozodydln9/)

He stared at the water. There was a lot of noise around him, but his world was silent as dropped his mini duffle bag. "Hey Kris," who's voice was that he thought, Sid was the name that popped up in his head. He gave a weak wave toward the speaker.

"Get in here Tanger!" Brooks called. Kris truthfully didn't even know why he was here. He hated water. He was frozen by the side. Kris's heart was pounding so loud in his chest he was sure everyone could hear it.

"Tanger?" No answer. Sergei swam over by him, "Kris are you ok?" He nodded, it was a complete lie, but he wouldn't let himself show weakness, show them that he wasn't worth their time.

"I'm fine, just still in shock that we won," he added with a fake smile and a laugh. He slowly grabbed the hem of his v-neck shirt and pulled it up over his head slowly revealing his toned muscles. He set it in his bag after slowly folding it. The grey shirt hung halfway out of is duffle. He untied his grey converse, and then as he stood on the side of the pool and smoothed out his white swim trunks with purple Hawaiian flowers that he had just bought for today, he didn't hear the footsteps behind him.

He only realized that someone was there when he felt their hands on his shoulder blades. Before he could figure out what was going on, he was falling into the water. He came up, already panicking. He grabbed the side of the pool, taking a deep breath, trying to fight off the images that were flashing in his mind. *darkness everywhere, he couldn't see* Kris took another shaky breath

*Water running, he couldn't move* the fear was building up in his chest, tears welling in his eyes. *He couldn't breathe, water everywhere, it felt like someone was punching him. He was struggling, clawing at the strong arms that kept him there* Kris was shaking and he couldn't stay there any longer. He pulled himself up out of the water and ignored the questions from his teammates and Marc's concerned voice. He picked his stuff up and brushed by the goalie who obviously was the one who pushed him in. He found the bathroom, and toweled off. He was struggling to control his breathing as his hair dripped water onto his face.

Kris could still fell the iron grip that kept him in place, the ache in his chest as he tried to breath. *Kris was on his hands and knees, sucking in breath greedily, he fell on his side as he was kicked in the stomach,

"Be in the backyard in five minutes and don't let this happen again boy," was all the deep voice said before disappearing from sight. * Kris was huddled in the corner of Mario's bathroom dripping and sobbing, "Arrête," he murmured, "S'il te plaît, arrête," he continued to cry and ignored the knocking on the door. "Luc," he said softly, digging for his phone. He hadn't done this for months, but as his hands dialed the familiar number, he felt safer. It beeped a few times and he got some shit message about a disconnected number, "Non," he murmured, "I need to hear your voice, Luc," he spit out frantically into the phone, "Luc," he sobbed. Kris sobbed for his best friend, he sobbed for a man that had always been there for him, but most of all Kris sobbed for the only man he had ever trusted. "Tu me manques, Luc, I need you,"


	2. Sometimes You Should Just Leave It Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So the first chapter was just a preview. This is the real beginning of the story. I love comments so please leave some. The beginning of this story will be kind of slow, but if you bear with me, I think you'll enjoy the finished product. 
> 
> Enjoy and please leave me comments. They make my day! :)

Derrick threw his stick at his stall. Simon had turned the puck over on the power play in overtime. Cam Fowler absolutely blew by Derrick, and had scored a shorty to win the game. Derrick was livid. He shoved his finger into the middle of Simon's chest. "Thanks a lot Desi. It's the fucking Stanley Cup Finals, not Juniors. You can't turn the puck over like that. You just cost us the fucking game!" The next thing Derrick saw was Kris Letang right up in his face. 

"Don't talk to him like that, you could have made the defensive play to save the game. It's not all Desi's fault, so shut up and take your share of the blame," he said firmly, and then the defenseman stalked off, leaving a stunned Derrick Pouliot staring. Derrick waited around, curious about the defenseman's sensitivity. He figured if anyone knew, it would be Marc-André Fleury. He had already asked Marty, but he had been told not to bring it up. Flower was the last one out of the showers, and Derrick caught him right as he finished getting dressed. 

"Flower can I ask you a question?" He asked softly. The goalie buttoned the last button on his shirt and nodded, 

"Shoot," he replied, picking up his bag. Derrick was quiet for a minute, " I don't have all day Derrick, what is it," 

"What's with Kris, he got really mad at me for yelling at Desi," he eventually asked. Marc looked surprised at the question, and he was silent for a while. 

"We can't talk about this here. How about tomorrow over lunch at Meat and Potatoes? It may take a while to explain," he finally replied. Derrick nodded thankfully, 

"I'll see you, thanks," 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Derrick was waiting for Flower in a booth. The goalie came in a few minutes late, his hair still wet from the shower, and he was wearing a blue button down dress shirt. They ordered and as soon as the food was brought, Marc began to speak. "Not everyone knows this story so don't talk about it." He went silent for a few minutes, "Kris's story started a long time ago…"


	3. Dreams Are Easily Shattered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone Enjoys it!'I'm sorry it's so short. Please comment :) 
> 
> Thanks and Enjoy!

Dark hair falling into his eyes, the five year old rushed down the stairs. The tree was bright, and the room screamed Christmas. Outside there was a soft blanket of snow on everything. Dark brown eyes peeked over at the tree, fixed on the presents under it. He went to sneak a little peak before his parents woke up. He was scanning the names on each present for the letter K. He could usually identify his gifts by finding the letter that began his first name. "Kris!" Came the sharp reprimand. How one word could terrify him so much escaped him. He guiltily turned around, already knowing how much trouble he was in. "Get away from the tree boy, and come here," his father said, voice low and menacing. The young boy gulped and hurried over to his father, trying to just get it over with. He flinched as the man raised his hand, throwing up his arms, but he was saved by doors opening upstairs. "That is your last warning," Kris nodded thankfully and scurried away. 

Kris sat at the table later, day dreaming about the bike he had asked for. It was all he wanted, he had written a letter to Santa everyday until the devastating news that Santa was fake was delivered by his father. He was picking at his breakfast, vividly seeing the shiny frame, feeling the wind blowing on his face as he raced down the street. He was yanked out of his dream at the sound of crashing. Breaking glass and obscenities could be heard. Kris just kept his mouth shut and continued to eat. He was already in trouble and it was only breakfast time, he didn't need to do anything else to make people mad. Already this week he had been hit right in the face a few times, leaving marks and bruises. 

Finally it was time to open his gifts, and each one was laid in front of him while his eyes were closed. "Kris, you can open your eyes," his mother said excitedly. Kris's grin left his face as soon as he saw the stack in front of him. He forced his lips into compliance, and they lifted into a fake grin. The least he could do was smile for his mother. A black Easton stick lay in front of him, a bow around the shaft. He quietly grabbed another present and opened it to discover gloves, skates in the another box, as well as finding a helmet, pants, elbow and shin pads, and chest pads. His stocking held tape, hockey socks, and his father proudly held up a jersey with LETANG on the back and featuring the number 85. 

"You get to start this season. I argued with the coach to let you play a year early," he exclaimed proudly, but Kris's eyes showed his disappointment, 

"Dad, I don't-" that small protest earned him a slap. 

"You will play hockey, and you will be good," he said darkly. The five year old held a hand to his reddening cheek, tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. He was comforted by his mother, held him tightly and shushed his whimpers. She yelled at his father for hitting him, but Kris knew it was no use.


	4. The Beginning of Something Beautiful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I decided since the other chapter was so short I would put up a second one! FYI:Luc and Kris meet much earlier in this story for plot reasons than they did in real life. I know there are discrepancies with where Luc lives in the story and where he was from in real life but again I needed it a certain way ( ex Luc Bourdon actually grew up in Shippigan New Brunswick, but here he is in Montréal Québec) 
> 
> Enjoy and leave me comments!! :)

Kris sat on a chair in the kitchen, his mom fastening his shin pads on for him. His pants were uncomfortably stiff, and he pulled his socks on and was assisted in the taping. He put sneakers on for the trip to the rink. His bag was packed with his stick and skates. His Habs tshirt that he had gotten for Christmas from his grandparents was tucked into his pants. The trip to the rink was long, and when they finally arrived, his new coach assisted with taping sticks as Kris struggled with his elbow and chest pads. He eventually succeeded in pulling them on and pulled on the practice jersey that was pushed into his hands. Lastly the skates and then the stupid gloves that made him drop his stick constantly. Kris felt ten times larger with all the equipment, but he started to skate around. He tripped occasionally, but in general skating had always been a strong point for him. He was handed the stick he gotten for Christmas, black tape neatly wrapped around the blade and the butt end. 

They took it pretty easy that first practice, just going over some basics. While all the rest of the kids were shooting, Kris stood back in the corner, almost unsure of what to do. He had never really been interested in hockey, but a tall man with blonde hair came over and knelt down beside him, "Kris, right?" The boy nodded, "I'm Antoine." Kris smiled a little, "Don't you want to shoot bud?" Antoine asked. 

Kris shrugged, "I've never shot before," he admitted. "I don't want to mess up," 

"Look Kris, messing up isn't bad, just try again if you mess up. It helps you get better," Kris still looked unsure, but he skated up to the line, and when he skated down the wing, he found himself remembering what they had told him today hands here, quick release, point where you want it to go, and he put the puck right in the net. He grinned on his way back and high fived the coach. "See kiddo," 

"Thanks," Kris said shyly, still smiling. Later they were separated into some positions. Kris got put with the right wings. They practiced their positions, and he had a lot of fun racing with teammates down the ice and back again. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. He was racing down just past the hash marks and he turned to pass the puck to the center who was waiting, but he was crashed into by a taller boy with brown hair. Kris stood up and spit some blood out of his mouth. He had bitten his tongue but other than that nothing was really hurt. "M'sorry," he mumbled softly, cheeks going red. 

"No, it was my fault," the boy replied gently. "I didn't mean to hit you like that," 

"Oh okay," Kris said unsurely, he was so used to it being his fault, the statement took him off guard,

"I'm Luc," the boy said nicely, 

"Kris," he replied quietly, and Kris smiled before turning back to go to the blue line where he was supposed to be. Kris really wasn't a big fan of hockey, he didn't want to play. If he argued it wouldn't turn out too good. Last time he had argued, he had to go to the doctor and say he fell off his bike. Despite his feelings about the game in general, Kris felt a little better about the whole thing. He was pretty good and the kids were pretty nice on his team. For now Kris figured he could bear it. He didn't want to admit it, but Kris kind of liked everything.


	5. You Will Stumble on Your Way to the Top

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, I hope you like it. No updates the last few nights can be blamed on my new Canadian friend who I keep company through texting during his night shifts. Please comment! Enjoy it!

Kris had spent an hour practicing taping his stick. He taped it and brought it to Antoine to check. He was struggling with his stupid shoulder and chest pads again. Antoine proudly handed his stick back and loosened the pads enough to get them on him and then tightened them again. Kris finished dressing, excited. His mom was in the stands ready to watch his first game. His dad was out there too. 

Kris took the ice to warm up and he stretched and then skated around a little, practicing shooting and passing with his teammates. Soon enough they started, and Kris was grinning as he was chosen to start. His center won the puck and Kris took the pass. He was off, speeding into the zone and around the back of the net. He easily got the puck back to Luc at the blue line. It was good. He played hard and had an assist after two periods. The third was hard. They were only up one nothing. Kris was skating into the zone once again, but he was pick pocketed this time and it was bad. The other team rushed down and scored to tie it up. Kris felt the tears sting his eyes and he caught a glimpse of the look on his father's face. It was the most heartbreaking, disappointed look Kris had seen yet. The young boy slowly made his way back to the bench, head down. 

The hand on his shoulder after the game made him look up. It was Antoine. Kris was waiting for the smack or blow to the face, but it never came and he relaxed a little. His cheeks burned red with embarrassment from his stupid mistake earlier that had nearly cost them the game. "Hey, Kris, you did good," Kris didn't really believe him. "No I'm serious," Antoine continued after seeing the skeptical look on Kris's face. 

"We almost lost because of me," he said softly.

"No Kris, forget about that okay, you played well. One bad turn over doesn't make you a bad player," Antoine responded firmly. Kris lingered in the locker room, but he eventually had to face up to his dad. He was scared as he walked down the tunnel and out to the parking lot. There his dad stood, a hard glare aimed at Kris. 

"That was embarrassing," he spat angrily at the boy. Kris looked at his feet, 

"I'm sorry," he replied, his voice barely audible. His father's hard grip on his chin hurt. He was forced to look at the man, 

"I don't ever want to see a performance like that again, boy," was all his father said. Kris was waiting for the beating he knew was coming. His father looked about ready to hit him, but Kris was saved. 

"Hey Kris, good game today," it was Luc who called that out to him and then came over to talk. Luc's mother was there. She had a soft smile. Kris wondered if Luc ever got beat, if that was normal. He talked shyly with his teammate and dragged it out so maybe he could delay the pain. Eventually the other boy had to leave, so Kris quietly followed his father to the car and when they got home, he got it. It was worse than he expected, and there were bruises all down his arms. He was sent to the yard to practice and he was out there for a long long time before he collapsed on the ground, close to throwing up from exhaustion. Then he was sent to his room, and he fell asleep in the bed, his whole body aching. 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

As Kris grew as a player, the game seemed to evolve for him. He grew to love it. Antoine was a constant in his life. His first season he played winger and it was great. He scored lots of goals and he made lots of good passes. It wasn't good enough for his father though. Beatings were regular and really if he made even one mistake in a game, he'd be in the yard for hours practicing. The new season was coming up and it was bittersweet for Kris, he was excited, but at the same time, he hated it. He hated the fact that he had no choice in what he wanted to do.   
Kris's hair had grown out some and he felt much more adult than the year before. When he had told his mother that, she had chuckled. Kris was outside skating in the rink his father had built and he was stick handling. Kris wanted to be ready for the season, another one like the last at least point wise might make his father proud for once. Kris desperately wanted that. He wanted to be good enough for once. 

He shot the puck hard and skated until he was called inside for dinner. He was quiet, Kris just tried not to antagonize his father. He didn't need to make him mad. He quietly ate his food, answering questions if was spoken to. Kris stared at the wall, the silence comforting. For once he wasn't being yelled at. 

"Kris, honey, are you excited for hockey to start?" His mother asked. 

Kris smiled slightly, "Yeah Mom," the six year old replied. 

His father looked up from his plate, "Kris, I was thinking, why don't you try some defense this year," Kris just stared at his father for a few seconds. 

"What?" He eventually said. 

"I want you to play defense," his father repeated a little more sternly. 

Kris gulped and softly replied, "But Dad," he said half heartedly, knowing it was no use, "I like playing winger," it was silent, but not comfortable anymore and the six year old boy wished he hadn't said anything at all. Kris finished his food quickly and went to his room to hide until his dad calmed down a bit. He had looked like he was going to stand up and beat the boy right there at the table. Kris regretted saying anything. Everything he did ended up in a mess, and Kris hated himself for it.


	6. A Bright Spot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I did finally get this up a day after I said I would 

Kris had tears stinging his eyes as the hand at the small of his back sharply guided him forward. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to play defense, but as he got closer and closer to Antoine, he knew it was inevitable. His Dad gave him a firm nudge once again. Kris looked up at his coach who was smiling, "Hey, there's my favorite little right winger. Another season like the last one and you'll be team MVP this year. Are you excited Kris?" This just made the boy more upset, and he shot one pleading look up at his father who gave him a pointed glare and squeezed his hand on Kris's shoulder. Kris winced, 

"About that Coach, I don't-" he paused, "I don't want to play wing this year," the six year old stared at his feet, "I want to play defense," it was silent and then Antoine started laughing, 

"You're kidding aren't you, you almost had me there," Kris wiped at the single tear that managed to escape, 

"No," he said softly, "I'm not," Antoine stopped laughing, and grew seriously quiet,

"Kris, why don't you go get dressed," The boy hurried off, wiping at his eyes. It was so unfair. 

………………………………………………....….…...….………………………………………….……..

Antoine stared pointedly at Kris's father. "Look David," Antoine said coldly, "I know he doesn't want to stop playing winger so why don't you butt out of it and let your kid be happy," 

The taller man took a step towards the blonde coach, "Stay out of it," 

Antoine poked a finger into the man's chest, "You let him do what he wants," 

David hit the other man's hand off, "Fuck off and stay in your own business. If you won't play Kris at defense I'll put him on a team that will," Antoine huffed angrily, but defeated, 

"You should really let him choose," was all he said before leaving to go get the boys moving. Kris was moping around the locker room, getting dressed slowly. The black haired boy didn't want Antoine to be mad at him, but he didn't know what to do. Kris quietly waited by the bench in the ice for his coach. He came out not to long after everyone was out of the locker room, a clipboard in his hand and a grimace on his face. 

"M'sorry coach," Kris mumbled as the blonde walked by him. Antoine turned around a look of surprise on his face, 

"What are you sorry for? You didn't do anything wrong Kris. I just need to know, do you really want to play defense?" He answered. Kris didn't know what to say. He didn't want to, but he also didn't want to get beat again. 

"Yeah, I want to play defense," he said finally, a look of resignation on his face. Antoine sighed and put him in a drill. Once practice was over, Kris was relieved. They did nothing position wise today so he had nothing to worry about until later. 

It just so happened that the schedule changed and one of the games moved up. Kris felt a sense of dread wash over him when his mother informed him of the change. He hadn't practiced defense yet at all. When he got to the rink and was dressed, Antoine came into the locker room and waved him over. "Kris, you're going to play with Luc. He'll try and help you out on defense, ok?" 

Kris looked at him, nervously, "Coach, I don't know if I can," he said softly. 

Antoine smiled softly, "Just do your best," he replied reassuringly. Kris bit his lip and nodded. The jersey was big when he pulled it over his head. He felt like he was swimming. The fact that he was a year younger that lots of the other boys made a difference in size. Luc was the only one his age, but he was the best defenseman on the team. Kris was still struggling with the new jersey when he was warming up, getting his arms caught and his stick. 

"Kris!" Luc called. Kris skated towards the other boy. "Hey, I heard you're playing defense with me," 

Kris smiled, "This jersey is huge on me," he replied. Luc laughed and ordered the small boy to turn around. He tucked the jersey into the back of Kris's pants, and it felt much tighter and more comfortable. "Thanks Luc," Kris said with a grin. 

"Now you won't get trapped in your jersey during the game," Luc replied. Kris was a mess at defense. Luc did his best to help, but Kris was so confused. He got to play on the power play though. That was an upside. The point was his favorite to play on the power play and when he got a little layoff from Luc, he blasted it right over the goalie's glove. It made Kris feel good, knowing he could score even from defense. At the end of the game, they had barely won, 4-3 and Kris had been on the ice for all three of the other team's goals. Antoine gave him pat on the back and smile. Kris really didn't want to go home. He hung out in the locker room for a while, but eventually he had to leave. When they got home, he was sent to the back yard to practice for hours. It wasn't long before he was joined by his father on the ice. This was a change; he had never had this happen before.

"Go down there boy," his Dad growled. Kris quietly followed orders despite his aching legs. "Defend," Kris tried, but he fell over and a swift kick to the side got him up again. "Again," Kris tried once more, this time missing a poke check. The hand on his jersey pulled him forward, and Kris closed his eyes, waiting for a blow. It didn't happen and he peeked an eye open, his dad grabbed his arms roughly and put them into position. "Do it again," he growled. Kris tried a third time and knocked the puck off of his father's stick. It still wasn't good enough though. After about 50 more tries, 2 hours later, and lots of bruises and aches, Kris was finally allowed inside. "Straight to your room and then to sleep," was the sharp command so Kris trudged up the stairs and into his bedroom. He got undressed and pulled his pajamas on and crawled into bed, starving and softly crying. He was so tired, but he couldn't sleep because of the hunger. 

After awhile of laying in the dark room, his door was opened a crack. Kris pulled the blanket over his head, pretending to sleep, "Honey? It's okay," his mother said softly. Kris peeked out from under the blanket. "I brought you some food," she added with a comforting smile. Kris relaxed and took the plate she had brought up. She sat next him in bed and held him as he ate the food.


	7. Sometimes it Just Takes a Little Bit of Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since I felt bad about not posting the other chapter yesterday, here's another one :) I'll try to Update Everything Happens for a Reason tonight also :)

At practice, Kris worked with Luc on drills. His eye was swelling up from the other day, but he could still see at least. Antoine had the defense coach work with both of them and Kris began to understand the position. He always wanted to get forward which was a problem, but it was fixable and with experience, the coach said, Kris would learn when to go forward and when to stay. Luc gave him tips on where his stick should be, and Kris felt a little better about all of this. 

All the extra work at practice showed at the next game. Kris and Luc were playing great. Yeah, there still was the mess ups, but the plays that were vital were made and it was really good. Kris scored a goal joining the rush, and Luc scored on the power play. Kris had two blocked shots and a hit by the end of the game and he was pretty happy with his play. Antoine seemed proud of him and he got the game puck afterwards. 

 

………………………………………………....….…...….………………………………………….……..

By the end of the season, Kris and Luc were the best defense pairing in the league. Kris's athleticism and his speed made him good for the offense and Luc dropped back for him when needed. It was never good enough for Kris's Dad. Kris got used to it though, he just would expect to get beat when he got home and he would expect to go practice for hours. The only upside to that is he got really good stamina. Kris could skate for a while and not be tired. The championship game was coming up and when Kris went to practice he worked so hard, and he never gave up on anything. 

The day of the game, Kris was so nervous. In the locker room he found his stall and his jersey was different. There was an A stitched right on the front and Kris beamed. "Luc!" He exclaimed and the other defenseman hurried over. He held up his jersey with a matching A on the front, and Kris smiled. "We are both Alternate Captains!" He said proudly. 

"Kris, we need to tell everybody to play hard out there," Luc added, a huge grin on his face. The two boys talked about what to say. It felt so professional and grownup to be Alternates. When everybody was dressed, Luc stood up on the bench and banged on a stall. "Guys, this is the championship game, we need to go out there and play hard," Luc said with a grin. Kris climbed up next to him, 

"We need to leave everything out there. Let's go win this game!" He said loudly and everyone cheered and headed out to the ice. Kris warmed up alongside Luc and when it was time to play, they were ready. The game started bad, 2 goals for the other team in the first but Kris had been on the bench for both. In the last 5 seconds there was a stoppage in the offensive zone and Antoine tapped on Luc and Kris's shoulders. They got set and when the puck came back to Kris, he teed it up for Luc who blasted it in the top corner. During intermission, Kris sat in his stall, trying to keep his head in the game. Antoine talked briefly, and then Kris talked to Luc for a while. 

 

The second was really good for Luc. The brunette scored twice and Kris was almost more excited than him. Kris practically tackled him after the third goal. Kris scored once at the end of the third and they won. Running to hug the goalie was one of the best parts of winning. The hugging, pictures, and proud faces made it feel that much better. Luc won MVP of the game, and when they got the trophy, Luc and Kris lifted it together. Then they passed it along to teammates. It was such a great feeling.


	8. When Things Get Worse, Just Hold On to the Hope of a Better Tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weekends seem to be be my friend. Please be patient with me and updates. Life is going crazy again, but I'll do my best. 
> 
> As always, enjoy, and PLEASE comment :)

"Wait, what the actual fuck," Derrick said as Marc finished paying the bill. "Tanger's dad was abusive?" Marc nodded, and Derrick just shook his head. "No wonder you guy's don't talk about it," 

"Oh Derrick, you haven't even heard the half of it," Marc replied, sounding slightly amused. While he followed Marc to the parking lot, Derrick suddenly realized he was suddenly nervous to hear the rest of it. When Marc just got in his car and drove away without a word, Derrick stared at the goalie's license plate as it got farther and farther away. 

After skate the next day, Marc gestured for the young defenseman to follow him. Marc dragged him out to a diner in the suburbs, and story continued from where it was left the day before. 

"Every time things got remotely better for Kris, something else would get worse…" 

 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

The next season, the first day of hockey, Kris walked into the locker room and his jersey had a nice big C stitched onto it, and Luc had a matching C. It felt good to Kris to know that Antoine believed in him, but home was miserable. Kris had a swollen shoulder from the last beating and his knee was sore, but he played hard and fought through the pain in the ice. Ironically hockey was becoming the bright spot in his lonely, dark world. Hockey gave him something to focus on, and even though it was basically the root of his problems, it still made him feel happy. He also got to see Luc at hockey, and Kris liked Luc. He was easy to get along with and he had hung out with Kris a little bit before. Practice started out slow, shooting and doing some passing drills that Kris excelled at. Then they did some face offs and Kris stood by the bench while the centers worked. Luc was grinning as usual. And he bumped into Kris purposefully. 

"Hey Tanger," he said. Kris looked at him weird, 

"Tanger?" Kris replied critically. Luc nodded, 

"It's a great nickname and you need one," he said confidently. Kris shrugged, and didn't say anything else. He didn't really care, if Luc wanted to call him Tanger, he could feel free. Finally the defenseman had to do some drills, and Kris missed some defensive plays, but it was an improvement. The scrimmage was a little bit of a nightmare. Kris got stripped coming out of the zone, and Antoine stopped play, 

"Pass Kris, you can't just take it out by yourself each time," Kris nodded and the next time he got the puck, he tried to snap it up right on a wingers tape, but it was intercepted and Antoine stopped play again, "You're killing me here Kris, easy pass remember? Right to Luc, he is right there, ready to help you okay?" Kris nodded once again, trying to follow instructions. Antoine passed the puck to Kris who moved it over to Luc, and play went on. Each time Kris got the puck he snapped it over to Luc, and Antoine sighed in frustration and sent the boys to the locker room. "Kris, come here," he said softly. Luc smiled at Kris reassuringly as he walked down the tunnel, and Kris slowly skated over to his coach. 

"Yes?" He asked nervously, and Antoine took a deep breath, 

"Look Kris, you are so good, and a lot of hockey is skill, but there is a lot that is thinking. I don't want you to be a robot Kris. I told you Luc was there, but that doesn't mean put it there every time. You are smart, I want you to read the play and decide if you have space to skate it out or pass it to a forward, or if you need to just take the easy pass to Luc. Does that make sense?" He said with a small smile. Kris nodded, 

"I get it," the boy replied, and Antoine smiled. 

"Alright, good job, go get changed," he said. Kris scurried off and went into the locker room to get dressed. After changing into some jeans and a tee shirt, Kris was walking out with Luc to get some food before they had to leave. Luc grabbed one of the sandwiches and piled his plate full of food, but Kris just tentatively took some and followed Luc to a table. 

"You know Kris, you're getting really good this year," Luc said suddenly. Kris looked up at him and eyebrow raised, 

"Thanks," he replied, it felt nice to have someone other than Antoine say something nice to him. His grades were low and his teacher was no help, and home was pretty much miserable and getting worse every day. Once Kris finished his food, he waived good bye to Luc and rushed to his car, trying to make it so his Dad wouldn't be even more angry with him. He opened the door and climbed in, leaning his hockey bag against the seat next to him. 

"You're late," was all his father said gruffly.

Kris sighed and softly replied,"I'm sorry," and then silence until they were home. Kris went inside and got a shower before sitting on the couch and icing his sore ankle. He worked quietly on homework, desperately hoping his Mom would be home soon. There were beer cans all over the living room, but that wasn't surprising for Kris. It was just a little harder. His dad was ten times worse when he was drunk. Sure enough the man stumbled into the living room, and glared at Kris. 

"What are you looking at?" His father asked before sitting down and starting another can of beer. Kris kept his mouth shut and worked on his paper more. It was just math, but he was struggling. He didn't remember what they had done in class yesterday. He sat there staring at the problems, unsure of what to do. "What the fuck have you been doing for the past fifteen minutes?" Kris jumped at the sound of his father's voice. 

"Working on my math," Kris replied softly. 

"There is nothing done on this paper. You better be ready to practice in a half hour or I swear to god I will beat you so hard boy," His father threatened. Kris gulped and nodded. He began to write, and just do the first thing he thought of. When the paper was finally 'done', Kris ran upstairs to pull on a tee shirt and some sweatpants to work out in. He pulled his skates on grabbed his gloves and he was outside with five minutes to go. He stretched some so he wouldn't hurt himself, and then stick handled some. The ice was kind of rough in the yard and would need resurfaced soon, so Kris had to be careful not to trip while skating. When his dad came out, Kris had to shoot because he had missed the net last week, so his dad sat behind the net and passed him pucks and Kris shot. Every time he missed he earned another lap of conditioning at the end. He missed ten times, and he knew he was going to throw up by the time this was over. Next they worked on defense and skating backwards. Every time he fell, one more lap and more than likely, a harder beating later. Every time he missed a play, more conditioning. At the end while doing his laps, he collapsed and threw up just like he knew would happen. Ten more laps added to the end and he struggled to his feet to push through it. He would be the best conditioned player on his team. 

His legs felt like jello on his way inside, and Kris wanted to cry. It wasn't over yet, but the kicks and the punches never hurt as much as the words. Those were what stung. Kris knew he was stupid but for his dad to say that to him, and he knew he was bad at hockey, but again his own father saying that, was what really hurt. After awhile, he limped up to his room and just collapsed. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow. 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The next week was Kris's first league game and pulling on his jersey, looking at the C, it made him happy. He couldn't stop peaking at it as he warmed up. Luc grinned at him from across the ice, and then right before the game started, as usual, Luc tucked in Kris's jersey for him, and the it was time to play. The other team was good, and there was this one forward who was giving Kris a rough time all game. In the second period, Kris slammed him into the boards. He was sick of the fucking slashes on his wrists and calves. The kid just made him so angry. He didn't stop so Kris threw his gloves off and beat the shit out of the kid. Sitting in the penalty box, Kris stared at his feet. He had no idea what had just happened. He had been just so angry, but the kid was just playing the game and Kris had just punched him. He was upset with himself, but he shook it off so he could finish the game. In the third, it was still 0-0 and it was getting close to the end. Kris lined up for a face off, and when they lost the draw in the offensive zone, Kris had to defend, but a nicely timed poke check from Luc had them going forward. Kris retrieved the puck at center ice and he skated through the entire other team and then just flipped the puck in between the goalie's pad and his glove. 

 

The horn sounded after that and Luc was grinning at him and Antoine handed him the game puck in the locker room. Kris was happy, but he was still mad at himself for the fight. On the way home, he was silent, and when he made it through all the criticisms and yelling from his Dad, he sat in his room. He brooded about it for a while, still unsure about why he had snapped so easily on that kid. He had flipped out completely for some reason. He didn't want to ever do that again, and that night he promised himself that he would be in control more. 

…….……….….……………..……….…...…..…….……….……………………………………………...


	9. Some Beautiful Things Can be so Destructive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I was going to post last night but the was a whole crazy situation with a last minute roster add to my soccer team at one in the morning, so it didn't work out. 
> 
> Here's the chapter. If any of the themes in the tags make you uncomfortable I would not read this chapter. It has violence and child abuse described fairly graphically. 
> 
> Please enjoy and comment :)

Kris sat at the table with Luc. He was staying with his friend for the weekend. The tournament they were at was in Toronto, so Kris just went with Luc. Luc's mom, Suzanne, was with them and they were ordering dinner at a restaurant. Kris ate and at the end the waitress brought a cupcake with a candle out for him. "Happy Birthday Kris!" Luc exclaimed a huge grin on his face. Kris smiled back, 

"Thanks you guys," he replied softly. He blew the candle out. Kris closed his eyes and he pictured his wish, coming home and getting a hug and an I Love you, from his dad, a Good Job. Anything. 

The cupcake was chocolate and Kris enjoyed it on the way to the hotel. Luc was eating a cupcake as well in the seat next to him. Tonight, they had one last game and then they were heading home. They were going to get in late, so Kris just hoped the game went well tonight. 

"So, how does it feel to be thirteen?" Luc asked teasingly. 

Kris stuck his tongue out, and replied, "You would know wouldn't you? Considering you're older than me and you constantly mock me because of it," 

Luc laughed, "You must really like me considering you put up with that," 

Kris rolled his eyes and finished his cupcake. They joked around until they had to go to the rink. In the locker room, Kris was putting his jersey on when Luc came over with some pre-wrap that his Mom had grabbed by accident while getting his tape. He took a piece of Kris's hair and tied a little bow around it. Kris turned around. "What are you doing, you weirdo?" 

Luc grinned, "It's your birthday, lighten up," Kris shook his head and put his helmet on. The little tuff of hair stuck out of the front and he sighed as they walked down the tunnel. The game was alright. Kris scored, but they lost by one. Antoine gave them all pats on the back and Kris was beat. It was still a long drive back home, but falling asleep in the car wasn't working. Luc dozed off almost on top of Kris who stared out the window the whole way home. Finally they were at his house and Kris pulled his bags out and waived good bye to Luc and his Mom. He could make out the form of his father on the porch. Kris sighed and walked up to the door, trying to just get up to his room. A strong hand stopped him and Kris bit his lip. 

"Yes?" He asked annoyed and exhausted. 

"Boy, in the backyard. Drills now." Kris was so tired and he just didn't give a fuck anymore. 

"No," he said softly. 

"What was that boy?" The older man hissed. 

Kris looked at him defiantly, "No, I'm going to bed," he said louder. Kris doubled over from the punch to the gut. His bags fell on the ground, and now he was pissed. 

"Back yard," his father said dangerously. 

"It is fucking midnight, I am going up stairs and to bed, not practicing in the backyard," Kris replied firmly. He found himself on his back, blood flowing from his nose and mouth. Kris was dazed, and he could tell he was being dragged or carried in some way. The sound of running water made him more alert. He was in the bathroom, his Dad was there too and he could tell something bad was about to happen. Everything went dark, and then he could not breathe. He felt like he was drowning and he wanted to scream, he tried to, and he had no idea if there was a sound coming out of his mouth or not. Kris's chest began to ache and he clawed at the arms that were holding him still. The light was blurry for a few seconds after that and Kris turned over onto his hands and knees, gasping for breath. Everything hurt, but the kick to the stomach was just cruel. The air rushed out once again, and there were dots swimming in Kris's vision. 

 

"Be in the backyard in five minutes and don't let this happen again boy," was all that his father said, and Kris struggled to his feet. He pulled off his soaked tee shirt and scrubbed at the water dripping into his face. He was still breathing heavily, and each breath hurt. He rushed down stairs throwing his skates and gloves on and a sweatshirt. It was miserable, the cold air freezing his wet hair, the pains in his chest every time he took a breath, and the exhaustion. They were out there longer than Kris had ever been before. When he finally was aloud to go inside, the sun was starting to come up, and Kris collapsed on the ground in the living room. The foot that prodded his side was not gentle. "Get the fuck up boy, and to your room," Kris just grunted, he was so exhausted. Even the sharp kick to his side couldn't get him up. His eyes flew open when he was picked up by the front of his shirt and slammed into the wall. His head snapped back and he was dizzy. He screamed when his arm twisted and snapped and then the shove into the wall made it worse. Kris blacked out, and woke up to his Mom frantically shaking him awake. He was propped against the wall at the bottom of the stairs. 

"Kris, what happened?" she asked worriedly. Kris just groaned, everything hurt so bad. He zoned a little and the next thing that he saw was a breathing mask being lowered on his face, 

"Shh buddy, it's going to be okay," a soft voice said, and it went all black once more.


	10. You Know Something is Wrong When Home Doesn't Feel Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so I felt bad about the cliff hanger in the last chapter, and to be honest, I run on comments. They make me so happy. So if you guys want to, please leave me some. I really love them. Super big shout out to ihavenotwittypunforthisusername and lurkinginmysecretcave for being awesome readers and constantly making me so happy with your comments. I really appreciate you guys. :) thanks for giving me the confidence to post this story!
> 
> Enjoy! :)

Waking up in a hospital bed was not Kris's ideal morning. He opened up his eyes, and the light gave him a sharp headache. Almost immediately, it was dimmed, and he looked around, confused. His arm was encased in a green cast and a matching cast was on his leg. There were crutches next to his bed, and sitting in a chair near his bed was his Mom. "M-Mom?" He said softly. 

"Yes Kris?" She asked gently, 

"W-What happened?" He replied. She brushed a piece of hair out of his eyes, 

"You fell down the stairs honey," was her soft answer. That wasn't quite what Kris meant, his Dad must have talked her into believing that he fell down the stairs. 

"How long have I been asleep?" He finally asked. 

"About a day, but the Doctor said you would be okay. He said although you have a concussion, you will recover fully and your arm and leg weren't broken badly enough to cause permanent damage," his Mom replied. That explained the headache. 

Kris was scared. He didn't want to see his Dad. He knew it was unavoidable, but the thought of seeing him was terrifying. He dozed off a little while later and when he woke up, they discharged him. Kris carefully made his way down the hall with his crutches, and when he walked into the waiting room, Luc and Antoine were waiting. 

"Hey champ," Antoine said quietly. 

Luc smiled, "Hey man," 

Kris sighed tiredly, "Hi," he replied. 

"The team wants to meet for ice cream in a little bit. Do you feel up to coming?" Antoine said. Kris smiled. 

"Yeah, sounds good," Kris replied and then looked at his Mom, "Is that alright?" She nodded, and then guided him out the door. "See you guys," the young defenseman called over his shoulder. He sat quietly in the car, and when he got home, he slowly made his way into the living room. He settled on the couch, his leg propped up by a pillow. The lights were turned out, and he closed his eyes, trying to relax and get some energy back. After an hour, his Mom shook him awake. She helped him get dressed and they left to go have ice cream with the team. Kris had a sharpie with him and everyone signed his casts. He sat next to Luc while he ate his ice cream. By the end of it all, Kris had a headache and he wanted to go to bed. Getting up the stairs to his room was tough and he was too heavy for his Mom to carry him, but he made it and he just fell asleep with his clothes on. 

 

………….……………………………………………………………………………………………………

After about a week, Kris still had bad headaches, but it was getting better. He was sitting in the house, in a dark room, lost in his thoughts. Sometimes it felt nice to just have a bit of silence in his life. There was a soft knock at the door, and Kris called out, "Come in!" His Mom cracked the door open. 

"Kris honey, Luc wants to go to the movies. He wants to know if you would like to go?" She said. 

Kris sighed, "Yeah, I'll go," he got up and slowly made his way down stairs. He brushed his teeth, and pulled on a beanie. He slipped into a coat and pulled a wool sock over his cast. He was about to leave when the last person he wanted to see stopped him. 

"Kris, where do you think you're going?" The man spat. Kris cowered back. He flinched slightly when his father spoke. 

"The movies with Luc," the thirteen year old stammered. 

"No, go lift weights, you need to bulk up boy," his Dad said swiftly, Kris just nodded sadly and left with out a fight. He was pissed, but he did what he was told. Later, he dropped a milk bottle and it broke. He was screamed at by his Dad, and then comforted by his Mom. It was a nightmare. By the end of the night, Kris was so scared that he would be beat again. When he got up to his room, he quickly packed up his clothes and his gear into a backpack and his hockey bag. He tied some sheets together, and after an hour or two, he dropped his bags out the window and managed to get down himself. Kris dragged the hockey bag with him as he made his way down the street. He knew exactly where he was going, he just wasn't sure how long it would take to get there. He was scared as he walked through the streets, but it was better than home. Kris felt so lonely and he already missed his Mom. She loved him, and he knew that, but he couldn't stay and keep living like this. He had to stop part way throught the night and rest. He sat, propped up against the side of a house and fell asleep for a few hours. When he got up, he walked some more. It was still dark out when he could make out the front door, and he wiped at a few of the tears on his cheeks. He was exhausted, and when the door opened after the third knock, he felt a little better. 

"Luc, I need help," 

 

………….……………………………………………………………………………………………………

Telling someone about it was rough, but Kris managed to explain everything that night. Luc hid him in the closet and brought him food. Kris couldn't do much anyways considering how banged up he still was. He sat in the small room and slept a lot. It felt nice to be somewhere that was safe. The pillows and blankets were comfortable, and he lost track of time. When Luc was alone, Kris would grab a quick shower or they would hang out in the basement, playing video games. Kris was pretty sure his Dad wouldn't call the police. Everything would come out if he did, all the things he had done to Kris would show up, and Kris doubted he would take that risk. Sometimes he cried himself to sleep, thinking about how upset his Mom probably was. 

One night, Luc was sitting by the closet, and they were talking softly about hockey when Luc's mother came in. The door was shut and Kris quieted. Luc pretended to be reading a comic and then looked up. "Oh, hi Mom," he said, 

"Luc, Kris is missing, have you seen him by any chance?" She softly asked. Kris's heart about stopped. 

Luc shook his head, "Do you think he's okay?" he asked, trying to sound convincing. 

"I hope so," was all she said before leaving. Kris let out the breath he was holding. That night, Luc sat with him in the closet, a flashlight making it so they could see each other. Kris fell asleep, curled up and on his side his head on Luc's leg. Eventually Luc had to ease out from under his best friend to go to bed. 

………………………………………………...………………………………….…….…….….……..……

Kris's eyes flew open when the door opened. His eyes grew wide when he was looking at Luc's Mom. The first thing that she did surprised him, she hugged him. "Kris, you had your parents worried sick," she said. She had him sit in the kitchen and grabbed the phone, beginning to dial, 

"No!" Kris exclaimed, "Please don't send me home," 

"Kris, I'm sure whatever happened can be resolved through some talking. Your parents love you," she replied. 

"No you don't understand-" Kris started to say. He had tears running down his cheeks. 

"Mom, it's Kris's Dad, he beat him," Luc interrupted, coming inside from taking the trash out. "That's why Kris ran away," 

She turned the phone off and turned around. "What," was all she managed to say. 

Luc threw an apologetic glance towards Kris. "Well how do you think all of that happened?" He asked gesturing to Kris's casts and head. "It sure as hell wasn't from falling down stairs," 

"Luc, language!" She reprimanded. Luc rolled his eyes.

"You can't send him home," Luc said softly. "You just can't," Kris was sitting in the chair, wiping at his eyes, disgusted with himself. He had cried. He would not cry in front of people, but he let it slip. Luc sat next to him, "It's going to be okay now Kris," 

Suzanne sat down, stunned. "Kris, please tell me what happened, and start from the beginning," Kris found himself recounting everything once more, but this time everything felt safe and secure. Kris felt okay for once. 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Staying with the Bourdons was like going from pure hell straight to heaven. It was still hard for him despite the positive change. Kris stayed at home for a few weeks, and when he started feeling better, he slowly returned to school. Hockey season was over so Kris wasn't very stressed. He began to smile more, and sleeping got a little easier each night. The paranoia faded, but Kris still seemed to feel like he was walking on egg shells. Luc and Kris loved the living arrangement. It was like they were brothers. Luc was the only person Kris trusted with his life. Luc was the only person he had ever known that just completely knew him inside out. Kris wasn't scared to tell Luc anything. The only person Kris was okay with crying in front of. Luc was the only person who had been there for him. 

 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The next hockey season, Kris decided that yes, he did want to play. Luc walked with him to the rink and they waited in the locker room while Suzanne talked with Antoine. Kris was staring at the new jerseys and Luc was over messing around with a puck. Kris passed with him, using a street hockey ball and they took turns shooting into a trash can. Kris paused when he heard voices, 

"Antoine, I just can't afford to put two boys through hockey," Suzanne whispered. 

"Hey, it's alright, I have some money and some extra funds. I'll put Kris through and you can put Luc through just like before," the blonde replied. 

"Thank you so much, I want Kris to have anything he wants. David practically tortured that boy," Suzanne softly said. Antoine sighed. 

"I should have tried to do something, I should have known," he muttered. It was quiet then and Kris turned back to Luc and they passed a little more. Antoine came in a few seconds later and sat down. He motioned Kris over to sit next to him. "Kris," he said softly as the brunette sat down on the bench right by his stall. "You are going to have try and stay a little low. We should change the name on the back of your jersey, your number and we are going to try and make sure you don't get dragged back home. Your choices for your jersey are Bourdon or Bélanger." 

Kris considered the names. One was Luc's name, but the other, it was Antoine's last name. Kris didn't want to draw any attention to where he was staying, so obviously Bélanger was the logical choice. "I think I'll use Bélanger," 

Antoine nodded, "How about 58 for your new number?" 

Kris smiled, "Good idea."


	11. When The Memories Never Leave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter because I have nothing better to do tonight than post. Enjoy and comment :)

Derrick could not believe the words coming out of Marc's mouth. "What the actual fuck," he murmured. 

 

Marc nonchalantly took another bite of his food, ordered a beer, and began to talk again, "Even after Kris was living with the Bourdons. The trauma from his childhood wasn't completely gone…"

* * *

 

The corner, he needed to get to the corner. The fear overwhelmed him. The corner would help. Kris could hear the fucking water, feel that damn ache in his chest from lack of oxygen. Breathe, he reminded himself. It felt like there was a fucking 300 pound weight constricting his lungs. It ached to breathe. Then there was someone touching him, and Kris lashed out, sending whoever it was on their ass. He shivered, water dripping into his face, he leaned his burning face against the cool tile, and tried to get back to reality. Return to the small, dark room where he was hiding. The towel felt nice pressed up against his face. He instantly felt sorry for knocking down the person in the room. He now realized that the only person it could possibly be was Luc. The other man should have known better than to touch him, but Kris still hated himself for doing that. He put his head between his knees to fight the sudden urge to throw up. He didn't need to add that to this horrible experience.

What had started as a great night, quickly turned into a nightmare. A hard fought game, and three periods hadn't been enough. Kris had thought he scored the game winner two minutes into over time, but it was called back for goalie interference. Luc had scored a few minutes later, but that one was called back as well. Everyone was beyond frustrated, but Kris wouldn't quit and with two minutes remaining in the first OT, he scored a gorgeous goal. Everyone was attacking him, and it felt amazing, like he was on top of the world. Luc and him had gone to the locker room. Luc had to go to the trainer to get his leg looked at and had said he'd be back in ten minutes. It had all gone down hill from there.

"Kris!" The voice startled him out of his thoughts. His vision was clearing, and once again, he noticed the wet, dripping onto his face. This time he couldn't stop himself. He grabbed the trash can that was a few inches away, and threw up. He felt a soothing hand on his back as he settled back onto his heels, but only for a few seconds before he was vomiting once more. A few minutes later, he was done, and he settled back against the wall, limp, and trying to catch his breath. Everything hurt.

Luc was looking at him worriedly, "What happened? I was looking everywhere for you. I was only gone ten minutes,"

Kris felt tears pricking his eyes, this was so horrible, "Matthieu," he whispered hoarsely, "Matthieu thought it would be a good idea to dump some water on me," Kris shivered again, and felt Luc drying his hair so there would be no more water in his face. He also helped Kris out of his wet shirt, and gave him his own much dryer one.

That episode had sucked all of Kris's energy away. Luc half dragged him to the locker room, muttering the whole way. "I am going to beat the shit out him. I will knock that bastard on his ass,"

"Don't Luc," Kris managed to say, "It's not worth it," the other man wasn't really listening, and he helped Kris sit in front of his stall, and got him a dry pair of shorts. The defenseman struggled out of his wet ones, and pulled on the new pair, closing his eyes. He could fall asleep right here. He felt a cup pushed into his hand, and when he opened his eyes, he thanked the lord it was not water. The red of the Gatorade was soothing, and he sipped it. His throat felt better, less scratchy, and his mouth tasted better. Then he heard a noise that he didn't like. He turned and saw Matthieu on the ground, Luc over top of him. Kris turned away, he didn't want to see it. Eventually they made it out of the locker room, Luc helping him to where his mother was.

"Hey guys!" Suzanne exclaimed happily, "Great game!" Then she noticed Kris's posture, the way he gripped the cup in his hand, and the expression on his face. "Kris, are you okay honey?" He shrugged, and curled in on himself.

Luc grimaced. "Matthieu poured some water on him," he quietly replied. They managed to get Kris to the car, and he just passed out in the seat. They went out for dinner and Luc got him food to go. He didn't want to wake Kris when he was wiped out. Once they got home, he did get his friend up, and Kris ate his food quietly, and then headed to bed early. He didn't say a word the whole time.

 

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Kris sat slumped at the kitchen table the next morning, picking at his cereal. He wasn't really hungry, and to be honest, eating just made him feel nauseous. He eventually gave up and left it on the table. He combed his hair, got dressed, and pulled a beanie over the unruly mop that refused to be tamed this morning. His eyes were drooping, and they felt very heavy. Sleeping had not been good the night before. He had maybe gotten 2 hours. The nightmares had kept him awake. Kris had his backpack slung over one shoulder and he was on his way out the door, Luc trailing right behind him. A hand on his shoulder stopped him short of leaving, "Kris, honey, let's keep you home for a couple days. We're going to go see Dr. Leroux," Suzanne softly said. Kris nodded tiredly and then sat down.

"Mom," Luc whined, "I'm tired too," Suzanne shot him a glare and he headed out the door muttering, "Geez, I was just joking,"

Kris was half asleep at the table when Suzanne called into his therapist's office. "Hey Nadine, can I speak with Dr. Leroux. It's Suzanne Bourdon," she paused, "Hi Rèmi, I'm okay. It's Kris. Yeah, he got some water poured on him yesterday, and he had a panic attack," she paused again, "Okay, yeah, thank you," she hung up and came over to where Kris was sleeping. Suzanne gently woke him up and got him to go get in bed to sleep, "Kris, I'll wake you up in time for your appointment. Let me know if you need anything honey, okay?" She softly said.

"Kay," he mumbled rolling over and closing his eyes, he was so exhausted, "Love you,"

Suzanne held a hand over her mouth to stifle the gasp. He had never said that to her before, "I love you too Kris," she replied, pulling the blanket up little farther, and she pressed her lips to his forehead before leaving the room.

…………………………………….…………..………….…………….….……………………….

Kris's whole body shook. Sweat poured from his forehead, soaking his pillow case. The darkness had him trapped in his own mind, a place that haunted him and no longer gave him shelter. It turned on him, forced him to live with things he tried to shove away, and not think about, things that he couldn't stand to remember. His mind held him hostage, robbed him of his sleep, and drove him insane all at the same time. He couldn't escape it. It was like an enemy to him. He needed help, he couldn't get out himself. He could hear screaming, but it took him too long to realize it was him. Then there were hands, a lifeline, a way out.

When the light filled his vision, Kris felt better. His face was wet, tears dripping down his cheeks, his chest heaving from the nightmares. He didn't see things anymore, it was all dark. It hurt, there was always pain, but lately he had just been trapped in the midst of nothing, all alone. Then there were soothing hands in his hair, and Kris relaxed a little. Everything hurt a little less as Suzanne whispered comforting words to him, and just rocked him through the sobs that wracked his body.

 

…………………………………….…………..………….…………….….……………………….

The doctors office had never been Kris's favorite place to go, but his therapist was worse. Dr. Leroux was okay, but Kris just didn't want to talk. He didn't want to unearth those memories. The ones that felt like they were tearing him apart, if he brought them out, the pain would be harder to bear and Kris just couldn't. The couch he sat on was comfortable enough. There was a grey fuzz on the arm that Kris liked to play with when he was supposed to be talking. The warm cozy room didn't give the outward appearance of a doctor's office, but as Kris traced the lines between the pieces of hardwood on the floor, he realized how much they tried to mask this place. They practically tried to trick you into talking to them. They would play games, ask you everyday questions, but it was all a lie, there was always an ulterior motive.

Knock knock

Kris didn't answer. The door opened, but Kris just stared at the ground. He saw the brown dress shoes as Dr. Leroux went to sit in his chair. "Hello Kris," the doctor said warmly. Silence. "How are you doing today?" Kris shrugged a little bit, but didn't answer.

Staring at his shoes was good, familiar. He bit his lip, and pulled at the fuzz a little. "I heard there was a water incident, do you want to tell me what happened?" Dr. Leroux prodded. Kris sighed, but figured he probably should say something.

"I scored in OT and then Mathieu dumped some water on me in the locker room," Kris murmured.

"Alright, how about afterwards Kris, it will help if you talk about it," the doctor replied.

"It reminded me of when…" Kris trailed off, and stopped talking all together.

"So it triggered a bad memory, and launched you into a panic attack?" He asked softly.

Kris shrugged, "I don't know okay, it just freaked me out," he snapped.

"Kris calm down a little, just take a deep breath," Dr. Leroux said evenly. Kris clenched his fists, trying to relax and stop this mess from spiraling further.

"Excuse me for a few minutes, I'm going to use the bathroom," Kris gritted out, knuckles white. He tried to breathe, but he was furious for some reason. Sitting down and closing his eyes usually helped, but right now all it did was freak him out. Sitting huddled in that bathroom was the loneliest, and hardest part of Kris's day. He couldn't be in the room with Dr. Leroux, all he wanted to do was break things or punch the Doctor in the face for making him relive these stupid moments. So Kris sat in the corner, door locked, head between his knees, and he closed his eyes. Tears dripped down his face on to the floor, and he stayed there.

…

Knock, knock

"Kris, it's Dr. Leroux," came the soothing voice. Kris just curled in tighter, "Kris, you need to come out buddy,"

"No," he softly replied, "Just leave me alone, you're making it worse,"

"Kris," the Doctor said, a bit of frustration seeping into his tone. "Please come out, we can talk about other things, just come on out okay," Kris closed his eyes, trying to keep himself together. "It's all going to be alright Kris," The defenseman slowly got up, and opened the door. He followed Doctor Leroux back to his office, and sat in a chair. He was quiet, and said even less than before. The doctor asked him about hockey and Luc and school and all that stuff, and Kris managed to reply with short crisp answers. He had never been more relieved to see Suzanne when she came to pick him up. He was silent on the way back, and he just curled up in bed when they got home. He just laid there, sometimes tears streaking his cheeks, sometimes, just a blank look as he stared at the wall. Suzanne would get him up for meals, and she managed to make sure he ate something even if it was small. Nightmares plagued him every night. He would wake up screaming, his hair sweat soaked, and Suzanne right there to hold him. It got so bad, he slept in her bedroom so Luc could sleep. Eventually it got to the point where Kris had lost 10 pounds, and Suzanne was seriously concerned for his health. Something had to be done.

 


	12. Sometimes You Need Some Tough Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's another one :) enjoy and comment. 
> 
> I hope this isn't confusing for anyone. I am not a psychologist or a doctor so this was all just me trying to write something that sounds real. If it didn't end up being convincing or making sense, I apologize. I tried ;)

Kris was laying on the couch, staring at the ceiling when he heard Suzanne on the phone in the kitchen. "Antoine, I just don't know what to do with him anymore. He just lays in bed or on the couch doing nothing, and he barely eats. He's lost ten pounds, and I'm so worried. Dr. Leroux isn't helping, Kris just hides in the bathroom. I need some help, he hasn't been to school in two weeks," she stopped talking for a few minutes, and then she softly added, "Thank you so much Antoine, I don't know if I could keep this up. Alright, I'll pack him a bag. Thank you so much," Kris heard her put the phone back, and he felt an odd feeling well up inside of him. It was something he hadn't felt for a while. Kris was feeling unwanted. He felt panic rising up at the notion. Suzanne didn't want him anymore, she was just going to hand him off to Antoine who would pawn him off when he got sick of all of it too. He felt tears about to escape, and he hugged himself a little bit tighter. Suzanne came in the living room and sat on the floor near his head. She stroked his hair, and wiped a few tears off his face. "It's okay Kris, it's going to be alright," she reassured him, but Kris squeezed his eyes shut. 

Luc came in a few minutes later, his backpack slung over his shoulder. He set it down by the door, and came over to the couch, kneeling down beside his Mom. "Hey Kris, hi Mom," he said softly. 

"How was school Luc?" Suzanne asked, still stroking Kris's hair. Kris started to shiver, so Luc stood up and grabbed a blanket to drape over his friend, 

"It was fine, how was Kris today?" Luc said absently. 

Suzanne sighed, "Same as usual," was all she said. Luc sighed and shook his head, "I'm going to make dinner," she softly added before standing up and kissing Kris's forehead and then going in the kitchen. Luc scooted closer to his best friend. 

"Hey Kris," he murmured, "You want to go outside?" Kris softly shook his head, "Are you sure, I mean, we could go for a walk maybe to the park," Luc added, but Kris just shook his head and pulled the blanket tighter. "C'mon Kris, you have to do something," he pleaded.

"No Luc," he said quietly but forcefully. It startled Luc, but he recovered quickly. 

"Sorry, I just, I'm worried about you man," he replied. 

"S'okay," Kris said before shutting his eyes. Luc ran a hand through his hair, and massaged around his eyes. 

When dinner was ready, Luc woke Kris up before sitting down. Kris took a few minutes, but eventually he came and sat down across from Luc. Suzanne set plates in front of each of them, and she handed Kris a glass of milk. Luc got himself some water, and then started to eat. Kris pushed his food around for a few minutes, but he made an effort to eat at least half of what was on his plate. He struggled to make himself eat more. He had to prove to Suzanne that he was worth it, he needed to show her that he could be okay, but he couldn't. Kris couldn't make himself be okay. Before he knew what was happening, there were tears soaking the table cloth below his face, and he was sobbing into his hands. "Please don't make me leave," he murmured into his hands, but they were too focused on calming him down to listen to what he was actually saying. 

"It's okay Kris, Shh," Suzanne murmured by his ear, hands rubbing his back. Luc squatted down next to him, and gave him a hug, 

"We're right here, you'll be fine Kris," the other boy muttered. Kris fell apart in their arms, but strangely, it was the best he had felt in a while. 

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The next morning, Kris was exhausted, and he didn't want to get out of bed. He felt numb, sucked of energy, and like doing nothing. He stared at the wall like before, and when Suzanne came in, she grabbed his duffel bag, and filled it with clothes and his tooth brush, and things that he would need. "Kris," she softly said, "Get up, you need to have some breakfast," Kris groaned and pulled the pillow over his head. "Kris, get up now," she insisted. The fifteen year old slowly got up and followed her to the kitchen where he sat down in a chair. Suzanne put a big plate of eggs and bacon and potatoes in front of him, and he started to move it around with his fork. "Please eat Kris, you're losing weight," she practically begged. He sighed and took a bite. He managed to eat some of the food, but when he got up to leave, there was still plenty on his plate. He went to go lay down again, but Suzanne called him back, "Hey Kris, wait a second," he turned around. "Look, you're going to go stay with Antoine for a while," Kris felt himself tearing up. 

"Please don't make me leave," he murmured. 

"I don't know what to do anymore Kris," she replied. 

Now the tears escaped his eyes, "I'm sorry, please don't make me go," he said frantically, "I'll, I'll eat more, please," Suzanne pulled him into a hug, and murmured softly,

"Kris, I just want to do what's best for you, and I think this will be good ok?" She stroked his hair, and he buried his face in her shirt despite the fact that he was taller than her. They stayed like that for a few minutes. "Grab your stuff, it's by the door. We're going to take it to the car," 

"Where's Luc?" Kris asked hopefully, "I want to say goodbye at least," Suzanne sighed and went to find her son. He only had a half day of school because of testing so he was still asleep in bed. When Luc came out, Kris hugged him so hard, "Bye," he whimpered. 

"It will be fine Kris, you'll be back soon," Luc said comfortingly. Kris nodded, and then followed Suzanne to the car where he sat in the seat and fastened his seatbelt. It wasn't long until they were at Antoine's house. He was waiting out front, and Kris just brushed past him to go inside and find a couch or something to sit on. Antoine came in a few minutes later, and showed him around the house. Kris's room was a nice big room with a queen bed by the window, and a dresser in the corner. He had a tv and an Xbox. Usually Kris would be excited, but he just sat on the bed, and pulled his legs up against his chest, his eyes watering. Antoine sat on the edge of the bed near him. 

"Hey buddy, c'mon, we can do something fun today, and then I'll take you out for some food tonight. It's all going to be okay," Antoine said. Kris sniffled and wiped his eyes. 

"Okay," he softly replied. Antoine got up started walking to the living room. He put a comedy in, but Kris just sat and stared at the white wall, half listening to whatever it was Antoine was watching. After it was over, Kris refused to take a shower and just threw some clothes on. Antoine drove them to a restaurant, and Kris ordered the first thing he saw on the menu. It was a good thing he liked steak. He ate a little bit, and drank some coke. When he was full, he waited for Antoine to finish eating, but the older man gave him a look. 

"Kris, you gotta eat more man, you're already small, and you lost ten pounds, let's get it back up," he said encouragingly. 

"But I'm not hungry," Kris said softly. 

"Ok kid, I'm not going to make you," he finally said. Kris took a few more bites and then took the rest home in a box. In the middle of the night, he woke up screaming. Antoine came in, and checked on him, but when Kris cried for a few hours, there was no one to soothe the tears away. Antoine had given him a hug, and shushed him for the first little while, but Kris felt bad keeping the man up, so he pretended to sleep. He laid in bed, arms wrapped tightly around his stomach, tears soaking his pillow. He missed Suzanne's warm hugs, the way she smelled like sweet vanilla, he missed Luc's grin and his infectious laugh. Right now he even missed Antoine's light musky smell, his hugs that actually enveloped Kris. For the first time in a long time, Kris found himself missing his mother, her soothing voice comforting him. Now sobs wracked his body. He sobbed into the pillow trying to not wake Antoine up. Despite his efforts, it wasn't long before the older man came in. He sat on Kris's bed next to him. "Hey buddy, what wrong?" 

Kris bit his lip, and tried to stop the tears. "I miss my Mom," he said without even thinking. Antoine hugged him, 

"It's okay to miss your Mom Kris," he softly comforted. 

Kris sniffled, "She was the only one who cared about me for a long time," he said guiltily, "And then I just left without saying goodbye," Antoine just listened. He only knew some things about what had happened to Kris, but that night everything just came spilling out. He told Antoine everything, things that only Luc knew. Everything his father did to him, every agonizing night he spent, all those hours playing hockey when he was just wishing for sleep. Before Kris knew what happened, he had cried himself to sleep, holding tightly into Antoine. 

……………………………………………………….…………………………….….…..…..………..……

The next morning Kris slept for a long time. When he finally woke up, Antoine made him sit down and eat. Kris found himself able to eat a little more than before. Antoine gave him a huge smile, and they sat in the living room with tv on for a good part of the day. Antoine left later to go and coach the hockey team, so Kris sat alone in the little house. He drifted back into his little safe place, where he could hide until he felt like being aware of everything was bearable. Everything was in shambles, and it had all somehow just fallen apart on him. When Antoine came home, he found Kris sitting in the corner of the living room silently crying. He dragged Kris to the kitchen and made him eat dinner before sending him back to bed. After a few more days of Antoine not putting up with his tendency to spend all day in bed, of Kris crying and waking up in the middle of the night, not eating, Antoine finally knew what he was going to to make this better. Kris just quietly followed him to the car, and buckled his seat belt. He looked up when the car stopped and they were at Dr. Leroux's office. Kris just followed Antoine into the office, mentally steeling himself for another session of trying to avoid his problems. Instead he ended up in the corner while Antoine yelled and argued with the doctor. Kris was kind of confused. They had gone in, but then Antoine just stormed back to Dr. Leroux's office. Something about depressed and pills, and Kris knew they were talking about him, but why was everyone yelling? And then he was crying and it was horrible. 

"Stop! Please," he choked out, and then Antoine was calming him down. Why did all of this happen to him. Kris hated the fact that life was so un-fucking-fair. 

……………………………………………………….…………………………….….…..…..………..……

Tears. They were everywhere, but this time they were happy and they weren't coming from Kris's eyes. Suzanne was holding him tightly, her crying making his shirt wet, but Kris really didn't mind. He was just so glad he finally didn't feel like he had to hide to feel normal. Antoine was a genius. Kris had no idea that those little tiny pills could flip his whole life upside down. Antidepressants. They made him feel like life was worth living, they made him want to talk again, to get out of bed. It wasn't perfect, but things hardly ever were. It was just okay, and okay was fine with Kris.


	13. When Pain Exists, Unhealthy habits are Easily Formed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Here's a new chapter, enjoy and comment and make my day :)
> 
>  
> 
> I promise I won't be graphic with any of th escort of things implied in this chapter :) it is maturely themed, but nothing graphic.

Kris shifted nervously in his chair. Luc was next to him, calmly waiting for the draft to start. It wasn't a huge deal. The QMJHL draft didn't make much of a difference with anything unless you didn't get drafted. Luc was definitely going to get drafted, but Kris wasn't so sure about himself. Kris hoped Luc went first so he could stop worrying about his best friend even if it was a given he would be taken early. Kris knew Luc deserved first, but everyone knew that kid, Crosby, was going first. He was a "generational talent" already dubbed "the next one" and drawing fucking comparisons to Wayne Gretzky. Kris just wished everyone would give it a rest. Yeah the kid was great, Kris had seen him play, but he sure as hell wasn't a Gretzky or a Lemieux.

Then finally, the names salted being announced and just as predicted, Sidney Crosby went to the Rimouski Océanics. Then Drummondville took a winger. Kris closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Le Foreurs de Val-d'Or choisissent Luc Bourdon de le College Antoine-Girouard," Everyone one was clapping and Kris stood up, and pulled his friend into a hug. Luc hugged Suzanne and then went up to the stage for his jersey. Kris didn't even hear them announce it in English to make fun of the way they talk with Luc. He was so distracted today. Now he was even more nervous. He looked at the sheet he brought that told him who had what picks. Val-d'Or had two picks in the second round, but Kris seriously doubted he would go that early. He grinned at Luc when he returned to his seat. The first round dragged a little bit, and then finally it was the second round. Kris sat quietly, biting his lip and tapping his foot. His mind wandered. Kris kind of just wanted to go home and watch some old Mario Lemieux highlights. Kris loved Mario, he was his absolute favorite player. In his room, he had a poster hanging above his bed of the Great Number Soixante-Six holding up the Stanley cup.  
"Le Foreurs de Val-d'Or choisissent Kristopher Letang de le College Antoine-Girouard," Kris snapped to attention at the sound of his name. 

"Kris, stand up," Luc hissed, and Kris found himself following directions. He hugged Luc and Suzanne and walked up on the stage to get his jersey. By the time he made it back, it had sunk in. He would be on the same team as Luc and he was so happy. Kris was literally grinning from ear to ear for the rest of the day. When they went out to dinner that night, Suzanne even got them dessert. At home, Luc stayed up with him for a while playing video games. Kris even fell asleep with a smile on his face. 

 

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Kris threw the bottle of pills into his bag. He was so sick of taking these anti-depressants. He had stopped a few weeks ago, but he had to hide the bottle to prevent Suzanne from being furious with him. They didn't do anything. He had felt fine for a long time, and it's not like it would hurt to stop. Kris tried to ignore the fact that he had felt a little more upset lately. He had to go get his head shots done so he left with Luc. After a grueling few hours of pictures and talking to some media, Kris headed back home. He wanted a nap, and he needed some food. Suzanne had dinner on the table when they walked in the door so he sat down and ate his quickly. He passed out in his room, but he wasn't asleep for long. Kris hadn't had a nightmare in a longtime, but for some reason tonight he did. He managed to wake himself up, but he was breathing heavily and sweating. Kris needed some air. He pulled on a pair of blue jeans and a mint green button down. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, and grabbed his white converse. On his way out the door he snagged his wallet and a white beanie. Kris had a friend who owned a bar not far from here. 

He pulled he beanie over his hair, and walked quickly to the bar. When he finally made it there, he pushed the door open, and went to sit at the bar and mope a little bit. Nightmares made him tired and upset. And right now he couldn't stop remembering the way it felt when his father had broken his leg. He could vividly picture all of it, and he stared at the wall while sitting on the stool. "Kris Letang!" Kris looked up and saw his friend, 

"Hey Marshall," he replied with a grin. 

"What brings you here my friend?" Marshall said after hugging Kris. 

"I don't know, having a bad night I guess," he said softly. Marshall was quiet for a moment. 

"You want something?" Kris looked up, 

"You'd do that?" He asked. Marshall nodded, and Kris grinned, "I'd love something, thanks," Marshall put a glass in front of him with some whiskey in it. Kris sipped it, and grimaced, but he drank the rest pretty quickly. He already felt a little buzzed, and eagerly accepted the second glass. Then someone pushed in between him and the person next to him. He looked over to see a girl, blond hair, blue eyes, and a nice smile. Kris gave her a shy smile. "Hey Marsh, another whiskey, and something for her," he said, trying to sound confident. His heart was beating so loudly he was sure everyone could here it. He turned towards her, "Hi, I'm Kris," 

She smiled, "Nadine," she replied. They talked for a while, and Kris liked her. He polished off another glass before Marshall wouldn't let him have anymore. "So, Kris, you want to head back to my place?" Kris's eyes practically bulged out at the question, 

"Yes!" He replied excitedly, "I mean, yeah sure," Nadine laughed and took his hand leading him to a cab after he paid his tab. Once they were in the car, she immediately had him pressed up against the back, her lips all over his neck. Kris's lips fell open, and he let out a breathy moan, as she palmed him through his jeans. He pulled her up to kiss him, and that began the sloppy make out session. They finally pulled away from each other when the cab stopped. Kris forked over enough money to cover the fare, and the followed Nadine into her apartment. He was lucky not to have tripped and fallen on his face considering how intoxicated he was. It took them awhile to make it to the bed, and when they finished, Kris laid there completely blissed out. He felt loose and amazingly exhausted. Nadine disappeared to get a shower while he laid boneless on her bed. 

A bad day had turned into a fucking amazing night. He finally turned over and fell asleep, setting an alarm for a few hours later. He needed to get home before morning. Passing out was great, and the best part was he had no nightmares.


	14. When Your Past Comes Back to Haunt You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friday's are great. I have all the time in the world! :) enjoy and comment :)

Kris climbed through the window, and stripped down to his boxers. He probably smelled like sweat and he felt kind of sticky, but he was too tired to do anything about it. He climbed in bed and shut his eyes, trying to get some sleep while he still could. Luc was giving him weird looks the whole next morning. Once they were out the door for practice, Luc turned to him, "Where the fuck did you go last night!?" He exclaimed. 

Kris grinned, "Dude I lost my virginity last night," he replied happily. Luc just stared at him, 

"Wait, what?" He finally asked. 

"Ok I went out to Marshall's bar and I went home with a girl," Kris said with a smile. Luc raised his eyebrows, 

"Don't know what she saw in you," he finally replied, a teasing sparkle in his eyes and a grin on his face. Kris laughed and then they were quiet. The big elephant in the room was the move to Val-d'Or soon. They both were anxious to begin their junior careers, but leaving home was such a big step. Kris was especially nervous. Suzanne wouldn't be there if he needed her anymore. Well she would be 107 miles away precisely. She couldn't rush to h lo him right away if he was having a major panic attack or a nightmare, and that scared Kris. 

 

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Kris was carrying a box up the stairs to the new apartment he shared with Luc. He set it down in the empty room, and sat down. Luc had the last box, and Suzanne was carrying their pillows and blankets up the stairs. They spent the day unpacking and Kris hung a couple posters in his room. When they were done, Kris blew up the air mattress to sleep on so Suzanne could sleep in his bed for tonight.   
This was all new, and as they ate dinner, Kris realized how much he would miss Suzanne and Antoine. At least Luc was here with him. Watching a movie was nice that night before everyone headed off to bed. The next morning when Suzanne kissed both of their foreheads, Kris almost cried. He hugged her tightly, and after she left he moped around for a while. Luc laughed at him, "Dude, this is supposed to make you excited. We're out on our own!" Kris laughed too. They had practice the next day, and Kris was playing really well. The first game, Kris managed to score a goal and pick up two assists so needless to say he was pretty happy with himself. Luc got his first goal a few games later. Kris was on fire, and he got into a nice routine. He would eat breakfast, go for a run, go to practice, come home and hang out with Luc and then he would go out to a bar. People thought he was older than he really was so he was unlikely to get caught. More times than not he would pick up a girl. It was nice. 

 

……………………………………………………….…………………………….….…..…..………..……

Kris was laying on his bed, half asleep after a crazy practice. Luc had just left to go pick up groceries. Suzanne was supposed to come visit tonight, and they were going to make her dinner to surprise her. Kris heard the front door creek open. "Luc?" He called. No answer. Kris sat up, he grabbed for his hockey stick, but then he remembered he left it in the living room. The defenseman stood up. When he walked into the living room, the last person he expected to see was standing there. "D-Dad?" Kris stuttered. 

"I finally found you. You're a sneaky little fucker, but I found you," his father replied. Kris's heart had basically stopped. He eyed his hockey stick that was still leaning against the wall near the front door. "Nothing to say for yourself boy?" Kris just gulped. "You know I watch the CHL drafts usually, and I saw you get drafted. Then after a little while of digging I found where you live," Kris was just frozen in place. 

"P-Please, just leave me alone," he pleaded, but he knew there was no use. The sixteen year old was almost shaking. 

"Leave you alone boy? Leave you alone? You fucking ran off, and now you're going to get it." Kris barely knew what happened, but he knew there was blood, and a broken hockey stick that he got beat with, and they he knew he was laying on the floor in the living room. Everything hurt so bad, and he knew that his Dad left thankfully. He knew he was crying. When he heard the door open again, Kris fucking whimpered and curled into a little ball. 

"Kris? Kris? Kri-fuck! Oh my fucking God," it was Luc talking, and Kris relaxed a little bit. He heard bags drop to the floor, and felt strong hands peeling off his ripped shirt. Luc pressed the ruined tee to the cuts that were bleeding on Kris's back, working on slowing the blood flow. Then those familiar hands were on his forehead, moving some hair away from Kris's eyes. "Hey, Kris?" 

"Luc?" He softly said. Luc leaned down closer to his face. 

"Are you alright?" Luc asked softly.

Kris nodded a little, "I-I'll be okay," he managed to reply. Luc pulled him up to his feet gently, and helped him to a seat. 

"What the fuck happened?" Luc asked, while digging around the messy counter for his cell phone. Kris was silent, staring at his feet. "Kris?" 

"Nothing okay, I'm fine," Kris finally snapped. 

"Look Kris, obviously you are not fine, I think we need to go to the hospital and get that looked at," Luc replied. Kris bit his lip and then sighed heavily. 

"Fine," he muttered before getting up and following Luc to the car, grabbing a new shirt on the way out. They weren't too long at the hospital, and getting some stitches wasn't that bad. Luc called in dinner while they were finishing up at the hospital. They headed home after that and Kris was more quiet than usual. 

"Kris was it your Dad?" Luc finally asked. 

"Yes okay, it was my fucking Dad, are you happy?" Kris replied sharply. 

"Sorry." Luc said plainly. Kris just stared out the window. When they opened the door, he saw his stick splintered in a pile of broken pieces by the couch. He picked them up and dumped them in the trash. The food didn't take too much longer to get there, and Luc put it on three plates. Kris set the table, and he put on a happy face when Suzanne came through the door. She squeezed Luc tightly when she hugged him, and Kris had to hold in a hiss of pain when she hugged him. 

"Look at you two!" She exclaimed. "You guys grew, and Kris you look so handsome with that new hair style," Kris had let his hair grow out a little bit. The truth was he just didn't feel like going to the barber to get it cut. 

"We made you dinner, well we were going to make dinner, but something came up so we just ordered it in," Luc said with a big smile. Kris followed them quietly to the table to eat. He was hungry so he ate everything on his plate, but he didn't talk much. He responded with and occasional nod or smile. 

"Kris honey, what's wrong with you tonight?" Suzanne asked, concern laced through her tone. Kris shrugged but when Luc started talking, Kris shot him a glare. 

"There was a little incident today, well actually a big incident," Luc admitted, shooting Kris a look of his own. 

"Oh my God, what happened?" Suzanne asked. Kris sighed but he stood up and took his shirt off before turning around to show her. She gasped. 

"I think I need a new hockey stick, and maybe a restraining order," he said trying to make it sound like a joke, but he was upset and when Suzanne pulled him into a hug, he felt some tears escape. 

"Oh honey, are you okay?" she murmured. 

Kris sniffled, and nodded a little, "I think somehow I am," he replied. When he pulled away, he put his shirt back on. The night was kind of quiet after that, but Kris felt a little better. Later they played some cards and watched a movie before Kris set up the air mattress for Luc while the other man took the garbage out. It was long night for Kris, tossing and turning in his bed. He dragged himself out of bed the next morning despite his limited hours of sleep. Kris groggily made his way out to the table where breakfast was waiting. Luc was still sleeping, but his alarm was going to go off soon. They had a game today. Kris was nervous about it. There were some NHL scouts coming to watch, and even though he wasn't eligible to be drafted for another year, he really wanted to do well. 

Most everyone was already there in various states of nakedness when Kris and Luc walked into the dressing room. Kris went to tape his stick first, avoiding getting undressed. He didn't need people seeing what happened to him. When everyone was still there, Kris grabbed his shirt to wear under his pads, and found an empty room. He pulled it on and then went back where he finished getting geared up. Kris played absolutely fucking amazing. He scored twice and tallied an assist. Somehow after the game he managed to not show anyone once again. Kris felt so self conscious all the sudden. He knew guys had noticed based on the odd looks he was receiving. He was going out of his way to not take his shirt off and that was really weird. Kris ignored them and grabbed a slice of pizza on his way out the door. Luc walked with him to the car where Suzanne was waiting for them. She was only going to stay a few days so the boys tried to spend plants of time with her before she had to leave again. When Kris hugged her goodbye, he held on a few seconds longer than usual. He missed her a lot when she wasn't with them, but he knew he would survive until the next time she visited. Kris just hoped it wouldn't be too far away.


	15. Another Step in the Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Dealing with some hard stuff right now. Not super sure when I'll be able to post. Here's a chapter tonight in case I can't get one up next weekend. Enjoy and comment :)

When Kris woke up, he had a splitting headache and a bad taste in his mouth. He immediately noticed there was another person next to him. Opening his eyes increased the painful thudding in his head, but he blinked until he could see. It was light out, so he rolled over and pulled the blanket over his head. Kris was half asleep again when his door burst open, "Kris, get your lazy ass out of bed!" Luc exclaimed. 

Kris groaned, "Tais-toi," he replied, head still under the blanket. He squeezed his eyes shut trying to will himself back to sleep. He heard Luc say, 

"The shower is down the hall on the right," and it took Kris a minute to figure out that Luc was talking to the girl. Luc shook the bed, and Kris whined, 

"Luc, I want to sleep. Stop it!" 

Luc just laughed and pulled Kris's blanket off. He threw boxers on top of Kris's bare ass. Kris heard Luc's voice getting quieter as he walked down the hallway, "Breakfast is in the table, we have practice in an hour and a half. And you owe me one you lazy fucker," 

Kris slowly got up and pulled the boxers on. His head hurt terribly as he slowly padded out to the kitchen. Luc had two plates waiting on the table, and Kris flopped down in a chair to pick at his food. Luc sat down across from him at the table. "Paresseux," he murmured affectionately. Kris stuck his tongue out, and then shook his head, 

"You're and asshole, you know that?" Kris replied. Luc just grinned at him. The girl came out into the kitchen, her clothes from the night before on. Her hair was still wet from the shower. Kris tried to remember her name. Jessica? No that wasn't it. Julie? It was definitely something with a J. Jennifer? Jamie? Joy? He didn't want to seem like a dick. Luc saved him a few moments later when he turned towards the girl who had sat down and began eating and asked, 

"So, what's your name?" She smiled, 

"That was your friend's pick up line last night," she said with a snort,"It's Jacqueline,"

 

Luc started laughing hysterically. "And you slept with him? That's horrible pick up line Kris!" Kris glared at his friend who was almost falling out of his chair. He threw a bunched up napkin at Luc's head, the little fucker deserved it, but he just laughed harder. 

"You're a horrible friend," Kris muttered, taking dishes to the sink to clean up. 

Luc scoffed at him, "I'm a horrible friend?" He said incredulously, "Yes, making you breakfast and dragging your ass out of bed is terrible. Next time, I'll just let you miss practice," Jacqueline left not too much longer after that. Kris started doing the dishes, and Luc snuck up behind him. He jabbed Kris right in the side. Kris jerked away causing water be splashed right in his face. His knuckles were white with how hard he gripped the counter, trying to breathe normally and stop hyperventilating. Luc fussed over him him, getting a towel and Gatorade for him. "Fuck, Kris, I'm so sorry," 

"S'okay," Kris replied, taking the towel and wiping his face. After he relaxed a little, and started to breathe normally again, he figured he should take a shower. Kris hated showers. Water just made him miserable. It was ten times worse when he wasn't expecting it, but anytime he was around it, he just hated it. As soon as he got out, he dried his hair and face to try and get the water off as quickly as possible. Then he pulled on some sweatpants and a tee shirt and went to hop in the car with Luc so they would be at practice on time. 

……………………………………………………….…………………………….….…..…..………..……

When Kris was called into his coach's office, he was understandably nervous. Training camp was coming to a close, and Kris had no idea why Coach Bouchard wanted tot talk to him. On the way down the hallway after getting a shower, Kris could feel his hands sweating profusely. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he was focusing on keeping his breathing even. The draft was coming up soon, and anything bad in Juniors could really hurt his chances of being drafted, not that they were very high anyway. 7th round, tops. More likely an undrafted free agent. Kris knocked on the door, and took a deep breath. "Come in Kris," came his coach's voice, muffled by the door. Kris turned the door handle, and stepped into the room, unsure of what he was supposed to do. He sat in the chair that Bouchard gestured towards. Tabernac! Why was he so nervous? Kris picked at his nails and he bit his lip avoiding eye contact. "Kris, I'd like to ask you a question," 

Kris looked up at his coach, "Yes sir?" 

"Kris who is the best player on our team?" Claude asked softly. 

Kris took a breath, that was an easy question, "Luc," he said almost immediately. 

Bouchard gave him a slight smile, "And what about yourself?" 

Kris shrugged a little, "I'm not as good as a lot of guys," the the older man chuckled. He pulled out a piece of paper and a folded up jersey. 

"Kris, although you may not be the very best player on our team, you are a hard worker, you are very talented player, and best of all you are humble. The coaching staff was looking for a player with these traits to be captain this year. We all narrowed it down to you and Luc. We talked about it and we held a vote. The players could vote for anyone on the team, but we did not have either of you take the survey. Kris, you received the most votes, so this year, we would like to offer you the position of captain," Kris was stunned and he kind of just stared at his coach. 

"Captain?" He managed to squeak out. Coach Bouchard nodded, and Kris gulped, closing his eyes for a second. "Yes, I'll accept, but Luc needs to be at least an alternate if not my co-captain. That is my only condition," Kris managed to say after a few minutes. 

"It's a deal, we're proud to have you Kris," coach Bouchard said as he stood up and shook Kris's hand, and holding out the jersey. Kris took it, and he grinned. He was the captain!


	16. When Things Were Just Getting Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felt like posting! :D Enjoy and Comment!

Kris needed to sit. He was seriously shaking, his heart beating rapidly. He made it to a chair, and closed his eyes to fight the sudden dizziness and urge to vomit. What the actual fuck was he going to do? Luc was his best friend, his roommate, and practically his brother. They couldn't trade Luc. It wasn't fucking fair. Kris felt like he was going to die. His breathing was getting labored, and Kris honestly didn't know why he couldn't be more grown up about this. He was almost legally considered an adult for christ sakes. 

The pounding in his head was beginning to get unbearable, and he was freaking out. Kris was pretty sure he was going to throw up all over the floor in a moment so he reached out weakly towards the trash can sitting a few feet away. He got it just in time before he was kneeling on the floor, puking his guts out into it. There was a knock on the training room door, but Kris was still throwing up. He sat up for a minute, catching his breath, but then another wave of nausea swept over him. Kris could not stop throwing up for a little while. Finally he sat back and felt a little better. He looked up and saw Luc looking sadly at him. "Luc," he rasped tearfully. Luc came over and hugged him tight. 

"Marcel!" Luc called. The trainer came rushing in, and tended to Kris, trying to pinpoint the reason for his panic attack. Kris had to lay down for a while before heading home with Luc. When they got home, he helped Luc pack up his stuff. The room felt so empty with all of his best friend's things in boxes and suitcases. Kris almost felt sick again. Suzanne was heading up after Luc had called her earlier. She was going to help them get Luc to Moncton. Kris gripped Luc so tightly as they were saying goodbye. 

"Fuck," he murmured, "This is so fucking unfair. I am going to miss you so much man," 

Luc took a breath, "You'll be okay Kris, and we'll text every day. It will be okay," Kris nodded and then he hugged Suzanne. When the car pulled away, Kris felt empty and alone. He needed to get out of the house. After taking a quick shower so he smelled decent, Kris pulled on some boxers and a pair of blue jeans that fit a little snugger than the majority of his pants. He grabbed a grey tee shirt out of his drawer and slipped it on. His wallet and phone were thrown into a beanie, and he put on his watch. Finally, after tying his black all stars, he hopped in the car and drove to Marshall's bar. Some whiskey sounded really nice, and getting laid was always a good finish to a night. Once Kris had his glass, filled with whiskey and ice, in his hand, he looked around studying the faces of the girls he spotted. When he met eyes with her, he grinned. Beautiful, and just his type. Her blond hair was partially braided, some hair falling over her shoulders. As he traveled down, his eyes lingered at her chest, and he made himself rip his gaze away and finish his once over. She had nice legs as well, and was decently tan. 

It didn't take Kris long to decide he liked this girl, and she seemed to have her eye on him. He called over the waitress and ordered some fruity drink for the girl. He subtly watched as the lady brought the drink over to the blonde haired beauty. A smile when she looked at him, and then she was on her way over. Kris grinned as she occupied the stool next to him. 

"I'm Cath," she said with a smile to match his. 

"Kris," he simply said before taking a sip of his drink. 

"Somehow, you managed to order my least favorite drink available," she said, voice laced with amusement. Kris blushed, but shrugged. "I appreciate the thought," she added with a giggle. 

"No problem," Kris replied, face still a light shade of red. The girl looked older than him, but it didn't really bother Kris. He was 18 so he was legal now, and it's not like anything horrible happened before. A nice swallow of his drink and a few minutes later, he didn't feel so embarrassed. Their conversation was light, and Kris enjoyed it. Plus when it got late, she was more than willing to go home with him to his now empty apartment. Once they were done he managed to set and alarm on his phone, and when he saw one message he smiled. 

Luc: u ok? 

Kris typed a quick answer before turning the light off. 

Kris: Sucks, but I'll survive. 

Kris closed his eyes, and after his long day, it wasn't hard to drift off to sleep. 

……………………………………………………….…………………………….….…..…..………..……

The season with Val-d'Or went well and Kris managed to rack up a lot of points. He began to get nervous as the days drew closer to the draft. He really wanted to to be taken. 7th round was realistically what he figured he could go at. When the day finally came, it was almost anticlimactic. Kris got up and took a shower. He pulled on a nice suit and was picked up by Luc and Suzanne. Only highly rated prospects were aloud to be there, so Kris was basically only there because of Luc. When Luc was taken 10th overall by the Canucks, Kris was really happy for him. He looked at all the draft picks the Canucks had and he figured they might take him later. Kris knew he wouldn't be taken in the first round, so if he went, it would be the next day. That night when they went out to dinner, Luc was grinning, and Kris was so happy. When the next morning rolled around, Kris was all dressed up again and he and Luc sat at a table. The second round passed, and the Canucks chose two different people. The third round was about to start with Pittsburgh on the clock first. They had already chosen Sidney Crosby first overall as expected. Kris pulled out his phone to give himself something to do.


	17. When Someone Believes in You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter. Super excited that this has been going so well. To anyone still keeping up with Everything Happens for a Reason, I'm not giving up. I think if I can finish this up, I'll be able to focus more and get over some of the block I get. Hope you enjoy and please comment :)

The Penguin's draft table was quiet, contemplating their next move. There was a trade offer on the phone, and Craig Patrick had to make a decision. He had a few names circled on his list, but he wasn't sure who he wanted. He peeked up at the clock 1:30. "What do you guy's think about Jason Bailey? Right Wing, Right Shot, looks promising. Attended US development camp," there was a nod of consensus around the table when Mario Lemieux came rushing over.

Mario had been sitting in an office, watching some highlights of Sidney Crosby. The Rimouski Océanics were playing Val-d'Or. There was one defenseman that really caught his eye. It was a coast to coast play that first drew him in. The skating and the hands, he looked like a forward. The explosiveness and ability to get back. And Mario was sold. It took him a minute to catch the name on the back of the jersey. Letang. After watching some more highlights of this kid, he ran down to see Craig. They had to pick this guy up. 

"Craig! Craig! Wait!" He exclaimed. "Kris Letang from Val-d'Or. You need to pick him," 

"Mario, let me do my job. We want Jason Bailey," Craig replied, getting ready to send in their pick. Mario snatched up the phone in stead of arguing after looking up at the clock that displayed 0:10. 

"The Penguins are going to select Kris Letang from Val-d'Or of the QMJHL," he said quickly and when the pick was in, he glared at Patrick. "This isn't over," 

………………………………………………………………………………………..……………………...

Kris couldn't believe his ears. "With the 62nd pick of the 2005 NHL entry Draft,The Pittsburgh Penguins select from the Val-d'Or Foreuers, Kristopher Letang," He stood up, shocked, and went up to the stage for his jersey. Kris froze at the edge of stairs for just a millisecond. Mario Lemieux. He gulped. The was a man he had idolized since childhood. Shaking his hand was the best feeling ever.

"You are going to be great kid," Mario said gently, and Kris almost stopped breathing. 

"Thank you," he managed to squeak out. After shaking everyone's hand and receiving his jersey, and walked back to the table, star struck. Then he saw Luc and the reality smashed in. Luc was on the Canucks. Kris was on the Penguins. They weren't on the same team. 

"Kris!" Suzanne squealed, "I am so proud of you honey," Kris nodded numbly. 

"Hey, it will be okay, you'll see," Luc murmured, practically reading his best friend's mind. 

At dinner that night, Suzanne pulled out two boxes. She handed one to Kris and the other to Luc. Kris opened the box and in it sat a ring. It was mostly silver with a thick band of gold featuring swirling designs that reminded him of the Fleur-De-Lis. It was beautiful. Luc had a thick silver ring with swirling swords and Celtic designs. His was just as gorgeous. "I am so proud of you two, so I got you these," Kris saw something on the inside that caught his eye. It was engraved. To Kris- My brave boy who is stronger than anyone I know. Don't let your past define you, and you will do great things. -Suzanne 

Kris hugged her tightly. "Thank you so much," he said softly, "I love it," Kris had a box in his pocket for Luc. He pulled it out and handed it to his best friend. "I uh got this for you, it goes with something else," Luc opened it up and in it sat awhile guitar pick, the Canucks logo featured on one side, and in gold on the other, an elegantly written LB. 

"No fucking way," Luc said excitedly, "Kris you got me a guitar!?" He exclaimed. 

Kris nodded, "I've been saving for it. It's at my apartment," Luc hugged him so tightly. 

"Thank you so much," Luc laughed then, "Now my present feels lame," Kris grinned. Luc held out a box for him and Kris lifted the lid. There was a gold cross necklace, two gold chains, a shark tooth necklace, a fuzzy gold beanie, and in the bottom sat a limited addition Mario Lemieux rookie card, signed. Kris grinned from ear to ear. 

"Lame?! You little shit, Luc! This isn't lame! Thank you!" Kris replied.


	18. What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! enjoy it :) please leave comments

Even though Kris had made the team out of training camp the year before, and had been sent down, this year he was excited. He needed to work hard, but as the WJC's came up, he got more and more happy. Luc was going to be there. For right now he needed to be focused on camp. The WJCs were in a few months, but today was the first day of camp for the Penguins, and Kris was nervous. He quietly walked into the room, and found the stall with his name on it. He had the clothes on that he was going to wear for the fitness test. Kris quietly stood by himself, staring at the wall, and desperately wishing Luc was with him. Everything was easier with his best friend. 

"Hi, you're Kris right?" A voice said from behind him. Kris turned around and saw a tall, lanky, dark haired man. Kris recognized a French accent anywhere. 

"Yeah, you can call me Tanger if you want," he replied softly. Kris tried to remember who this guy was…

"Marc-Andre Fleury, I'm the goalie," he supplied. Kris smiled a little bit. Marc talked and Kris stayed quiet, content to just listen. He said a few things here and there, but Marc mainly just rambled on about stuff. He introduced Kris to Sidney Crosby, Sid he mentally corrected, and Brooks Orpik, Brooksy, Sergei Gonchar, Gonch, and Evg…Geno, or something like that,

"Are you from Québec?" Kris blurted out, but then he blushed. What was he doing! Kris closed his eyes. That question was dumb. Then the man just laughed, and Kris felt a little better. 

"Sorel-Tracy man, how about you?" Marc replied. 

"Montréal," Kris said, a small smile on his face. The goalie was a nice dose of home. "Je suis un peu timide," Kris said softly, switching into French. 

"C'est bon, il n'est pas un problem. Tu es gentil et tu travaille bon," Marc replied nonchalantly.

"Thanks," Kris finally said, a hint of a smile on his face. Marc grinned back. Kris felt better already. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. 

………….….………………………….….………………………………………………………….………

Kris was wrong. He was so fucking wrong. Camp was fine and after being assigned to Wilkes-Barre/Scranton, he was called up for an injury. He stayed up for a little while, but oh fuck, it just became a nightmare. 

Kris sat on the bench, his head down, barely holding tears back. One fucking play, all he had to do was make one fucking play, and he wasn't going to fucking cry. He was 19 years old for christ's sake, but tabernac, sometimes he wished he was that thirteen year old boy that Suzanne would comfort. Of course he had messed it up, as usual with everything else in his life, he was a fucking screw up. "Tanger, hey man, it's okay," Sid murmured as he patted the defenseman on the shoulder. Sid dragged him down the runway to the locker room, Jordy on the other side of Sid. As soon as the door was shut, Michel Therrien was right there, face beet red, 

"You fucking idiot!" His coach screamed. Kris's eyes grew huge, and that horrible feeling began to well up inside of him. "All you had to do was pass the puck, it was so easy. You're so lucky your sorry ass isn't already on a plane to Wilkes-Barre!" 

Kris's back hit the door with a thud, and fuck he wasn't tearing up, there was something in his eyes okay! He was caught entirely off guard, but managed to stutter, "I-I'm sorry, p-please don't hit me," and his arms were poised to protect his face if Michel tried to take swing at him. The coach just started to scream at him in French, until he was pulled away from Kris. 

"Michel, don't yell at him like that, he is only 19," Mario Lemieux scolded harshly, "Kris made a common mistake, and he's only been up for a few games," Kris furiously wiped at his eyes, not wanting his idol to see him crying. Mario turned towards him just as he wiped the last bit of moisture away from his eyes. The owner was smiling softly, "Ça va?" He asked.

Kris just shrugged which got a chuckle from Mario. The young defenseman bit his lip before softly replying, "Desolé, quelquefois, je suis bête." 

Mario shook his head, "Dis Kris, tu es jeune, d'accord?" 

Kris nodded, still angry with himself, but feeling a little better. He quietly trudged over to his locker, but when tears threatened to fall again, Kris ran out of the locker room, gear and all. Media and reporters were out there, but he didn't care. He went into the empty workout room and scrubbed at his face.

"Stupid," he muttered to himself, "Stupid, stupid, stupid. Tabernac, how can I be such an idiot?" Kris sat in a chair and pulled his helmet off of his sweaty mop of hair. He sat with his head in his hands, how was it possible to be so dumb? He sucked at hockey, and could not think of one reason that the Penguins had chosen him so early in the draft. Kris had literally no idea how he had even made pro. The sound of the door opening startled him, and when he looked up, he saw Sid, Jordy, and Marc peeking in at him. 

"Kris?" Sid asked softly, "Are you okay?" 

Jordy quickly added, "It didn't matter, Michel is just a jerk, no one is actually upset with you," 

Marc laughed a little bit, "Hey, I give up soft goals sometimes, and look, I'm still alive," 

Kris smiled a little despite himself, "Thanks guys, for this, and for getting Mario earlier," he replied. 

They tried to coax him back to the locker room, but he was embarrassed. Kris didn't want to go back. He untied his skates and sat in the workout room for what seemed like forever. Jordy and Sid brought his clothes, and Marc offered to take his equipment back to the locker room. He thanked them and went home, still furious with himself. When he got home, Kris flopped down on the couch, and wallowed in his misery. He was so exhausted. But he just laid on the couch in the dark. He dozed off earlier that usual, but jolted awake at the sound of his door opening. His stick was a few feet away, so he grabbed it and went to go see who it was. When he turned the corner, he stopped dead in his tracks. 

……………………….……….………………………………………………………….….…..…………...

"Luc!" Kris exclaimed, crushing his best friend in a hug. "What are you doing here?" 

"Kris, have you even turned on ESPN? They are reporting what happened all over it. The media got audio clips of Michel screaming at you from outside the door, and as soon as I saw it, I rushed down here," Luc replied, his voice laced with worry. Kris honestly didn't care. Luc was here and everything was okay now. "Kris," Luc said for the third time, trying to get his attention. 

"Hm?" Kris said as he finally let the other man go. 

"Are you alright?" Luc said, his brow knitted with worry. 

"Oh, yeah. I'll survive. It isn't like I haven't dealt with worse before," Kris replied tiredly. They played some video games on the couch, and when Kris found out Luc had two days off, he didn't stop grinning. They ordered some take out and everything felt happy. Kris could forget the problems from earlier and worry about them after Luc left. Until then, he would cherish the time with the man who was basically his brother.


	19. You're Always there to Keep Me Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Had a delay for school so I figured I's put a chapter up. Enjoy and comment :)

Despite Mario's opinions on the matter, Kris got sent back down to Val-d'Or once again for further development. It wasn't that big of deal. He was team captain, and this would be his last year playing juniors. Next year he would make the full time jump to pros or be a washout basically. The months went by slowly, but finally it was just a few weeks until the World Junior Championships. Kris and Luc both attended development camp, and when Kris was named Captain of Team Canada, he couldn't help but wonder why Luc wasn't Captain. The tournament was hard, but they made it through, and the gold medal was really nice. Kris wasn't worried about winning the tournament. He had been able to spend the whole tournament with Luc, and it was amazing to be back with him, even for such a short time. When he saw Luc, all of his problems, his fears, and mistakes, they just disappeared for a little while. Everything was happy. Luc was his bright spot in a world of darkness. 

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

 

The summer that year was amazing. Luc, Suzanne, and Kris went to the Bahamas, and it was gorgeous. Laying on the beach, swimming, and playing video games in the little paradise was great for a few weeks. Going back to America was kind of hard, but they both had to get moving on their summer work outs. Luc stayed with Kris in Pittsburgh for July, and when Marc called and invited Kris to a team bonding thing at an amusement park, they both showed up. As they walked into the park, Kris had to pull off his grey Penguins ball cap for a second so he could wipe the seat from his forehead. It was blazing hot, and Luc was grumbling beside him about how they had picked the hottest day all summer to do this. 

"Oh calm down Luc," Kris said with a grin, "You even have on a lighter shirt than me," Luc's white and tan striped tee was much thinner and lighter than Kris's navy purplish Banana Republic tee. Kris spotted Marc by the ticket scanners, and they walked over to the goalie, "Marc, this is Luc Bourdon, Luc, this is Marc-Andre Fleury," Kris said softly. Luc and Marc smiled at each other, and then Marc dragged them into the park. The day was really fun until in the afternoon around 3ish, 

"Dude it's too hot, let's get in the water," Jordy complained to Sid, who nodded in agreement. 

"Geno and I agree," Sergei said, speaking for both himself and the Russian center who barely spoke English. Kris paled at even the mention of the word. 

"Kris," Luc hissed, "Hang in there man, don't get sick all over your shoes," Kris closed his eyes and took a breath, Luc knew him well, he could already feel his lunch trying to escape at the mere thought of getting in water. He shoved his hands in his pockets, and awkwardly hung back, trying to avoid getting on the ride without raising too much suspicion. 

"Tanger come on!" Sid called. 

Kris closed his eyes, why does this sort of thing always happen to him? "No, no, I-I'm good," he said only loud enough for people close to him to hear. Sid shrugged and went ahead with Jordy and Marc. Luc stepped closer to him, "Go ahead Luc," Kris said softly, "Have fun," 

"Are you sure?" Luc asked hanging back, but Kris nodded so he started to get in line. 

"What, are you afraid of the water kid?" A voice said, and Kris turned to look at the man. He looked vaguely familiar. 

"No," Kris said unconvincingly. 

The man laughed, "You're what, 19, and you're afraid of the water? Does your mom tuck you into bed at night?" Kris could feel his face turning red.

 

Luc stopped dead in his tracks, and turned around. He stepped in between the man and Kris, "Leave him alone, or I will fuck you up," he growled. 

"What are you? His Mom?" The guy said, laughing again. Luc was practically shaking, but Kris put a hand on his friend's shoulder. 

"It's alright Luc, he's right. I should just go on the ride," Kris murmured. 

"No, Kris, remember what happened last time?" Luc replied frantically. Sergei had returned after hearing the commotion, 

"That's enough Petr," the Russian said with a scowl, having heard parts of the conversation. He dragged the right winger off, and they left Kris and Luc standing there. Kris took a deep breath, pulled his shirt off, and put all of his stuff in his hat. Then he got in line and got on the ride with Luc. 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
When Kris got off the ride, he could barely breathe right. He disappeared into the men's bathroom, and when Luc was asked about it, he just told people to mind their own fucking business, held Kris's stuff, and let his anger at Petr Sykora build up inside. He bought Kris a towel and took it to him so he could dry off. The defenseman was huddled in the corner, shivering and staring at the ground. Luc draped the towel around his shoulders and left him alone. Kris came out a good half hour later, and they caught up with the guy's at a restaurant. Kris was quiet, and he looked like he was going to throw up. Luc ordered him a sprite when he didn't answer the waitress. Thankfully he knew what Kris liked so he ordered him food as well. "Kris," he said softly, "Kris, are you okay?" 

Kris just sat there and picked at his food. He shrugged a little bit after a few seconds, and that made Luc feel a little better. At least Kris was aware of his surroundings. Marc-Andre Fleury came and plopped down right next to Kris. Luc eyed the goalie, trying to judge if he was going to be an asshole or not. "Hey Kris," the man said cheerfully. Silence. "I heard Petr was being a fucker earlier, don't mind him," Marc added. 

Kris sighed, "Can I get a box for this?" he finally said softly. Luc breathed a sigh of relief. The defenseman was not going spiral down into depression like he did five years ago. Luc was so happy he laughed a little bit. 

"I'll get you one," he replied, a small smile on his face. 

 

After that, Luc decided he liked Marc, and when he had to travel back to Vancouver at the end of the summer, he knew Kris was in good hands. Marc would watch over him, and everything would be okay. And when Vancouver played the Penguins later that year, Luc made sure to hammer Petr Sykora every time he was within 5 feet of him on the ice.


	20. Stick With the Goalie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I was going to post this last night, but I fell asleep in the middle of naming the chapter. When I woke up, I couldn't believe it. Lol so enjoy and comment! Sorry it's so short :)

Training camp was rough for Kris. Being around Luc for so long and then being ripped away again was not fun. The day Luc left was fresh in his mind although it was a good two weeks ago. 

Kris had stayed up as late as possible, Luc playing video games with him. It was almost 3 am before they went to bed. The next morning, Kris made breakfast and they ate quietly, both of them knowing Luc's plane left in 4 hours. They had time to fit in a movie before Luc needed a shower and to pack all of his shit up. At the airport, Kris hugged Luc, and got a little red when a tear escaped. "I'm going to miss you man, go fucking kill it in Vancouver," he said softly. 

Luc patted his back, "It's going to be great this year Kris. You are going to make the Penguin's roster okay?" Kris nodded, "Hang out with the goalie, he'll watch out for you," Kris nodded again, "And don't worry, we'll hang out next summer, go to the beach, train in Montréal, and it will be just as good as this summer," 

"Yeah, call me when you get in to Canada?" Kris said, letting go. 

"Yeah, I'll talk to you later," Kris just stood there, watching as Luc disappeared into security, and that was it. He went home, but he felt so sad. He already missed Luc. This was going to be a long year. 

Kris was pulled out of his thoughts by Marc-Andre Fleury, "Turn your ringer down Tanger. Your phone has been singing for like five minutes," 

"Shit, guess I wasn't paying attention," Kris murmured as he pulled his phone out, 

One of the guys has a motorcycle. Went for a quick spin, no other feeling compares. This thing is fucking sick! -Luc

Kris grinned. At least Luc was having a good time. A few texts from Suzanne, and a couple from some of his junior buddies and his mailbox was empty. Kris finished getting his gear off and went to go see the posted roster on Coach Therrien's door. Kris's heart sunk a little bit, 

#58 Kris Letang -Wilkes-Barre Scranton

He sighed and headed home. It was time to play hard, he needed to make Luc proud, Kris was going to make the big team. 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

A couple injuries and some great play later, Kris was up on the Penguins. This year, despite Michel's screaming and carrying on, Kris played hard. He played well, and he didn't go back down. His defense was still a little lacking, but it wasn't too bad. The experience was really cool. The team just kept winning. Someone would get them down, but you could never count them out. The Never Say Die Penguins was what the media dubbed them as they just kept going. 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Kris stood in the the locker room nervously. He had only been up for a month or two and somehow he had managed to either be the first one there to change or the last one out, but today he was running late, and when he finally made it to the rink, everyone was already there. He took everything off but his shirt and pulled all of the lower body gear on first. He could feel the stares and all the odd looks he was receiving. He gulped, "Hey Kris!" Marc yelled across the room. Kris could already feel his face reddening, "You have nipple piercings or some weird shit like that? You never take your shirt off in front of anyone," 

Kris's cheeks were burning, "No," he murmured. He went back towards the showers and changed his shirt there and no one saw.

A few days later, he ran into the the same problem. His alarm didn't go off so he came in later than he wanted to. And again he managed to to change, but Marc noticed something was up. When Kris got to the rink the next morning, bright and early as usual, Marc was sitting in his stall, grinning like the fucker he was. Kris began to feel a little bit of panic building in his chest. He set his bag down, and carefully pulled off his jeans and converse, next was his sweatshirt and then his boxers, and he was left in a tee shirt and socks. He pulled on his jock strap and pants, and the worked on his shin guards, socks and tape. Marc just sat there, staring at him, waiting for him to take his shirt off. When he tried to go to the showers, Jordy was leaning against the door way. 

"Kris, you need to get over this fear of taking off your shirt. We're all team mates, we've seen everything else," Marc said, coming up behind him. Sid was at the entrance to the locker room, and Kris felt like he was going to burst into tears. They just didn't get it, he could already see the way they'd look at him if they found out. They would see how weak he was, how pathetic. Never the less, he went back over to his stall, pulled off his tee and turned around to get his his chest pads, not delaying the inevitable outcome anymore. Silence, and then, 

 

"What the actual fuck," Sid murmured. Jordy just stared, and Marc started mumbling apologies in French. Kris was still pretty sure they didn't know what the scars were from, but they knew it was a sensitive subject and he was obviously self conscious about them. Kris quickly pulled his gear on and went out to the ice so he could be alone. Marc tried to talk to him later, and truthfully Kris didn't want to speak to him, so he just ignored the man. After practice, Kris pulled his shirt off, and felt everyone's eyes on his back. It kind of sucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea if this is confusing for readers or not, but Kris is embarrassed by the scars on his back from when his dad beat him with his own hockey stick. If anyone was confused, I hope that clarifies it a little :)


	21. Just Leave Me Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Long weekend from school, so I get to post this a day early. Soccer is over so I have more time on my hands! Yay! Got some lovely comments from some awesome readers with the last chapter so thanks to ihavenotwittypunforthisusername, hayward_99, and Laurrren! You guys keep me going! Hope you guys enjoy! :)

The next day, when Kris came into the locker room, Marc, Sid, and Jordy were sitting in the one corner of the locker room, whispering. Kris was pretty sure he knew what they were talking about, but he just tried to ignore it. He took off his shoes, "What do you think happened to him?" Jordy asked. Kris grimaced, they didn't need to know, why did it matter to them. 

"I don't know Jordy, but whatever it was, it must have been fucking horrible," Sid softly replied. Kris clenched his hands, and then unbuttoned his pants, trying to keep his cool. 

"Did you see them?" Marc said, a sad tone to his voice, "Those scars were so bad, and I feel fucking horrible that that happened. The poor kid," Kris was done. He didn't want their fucking pity. 

"Shut the fuck up!" He exploded. "Just stop talking about me, and being fucking worried about things that you don't even know about. Just leave me the fuck alone and get on with your damn lives," he spat angrily. He pulled off his shirt, and changed into his gear, once again looking for the safety the empty ice could bring him. After practice, the three men approached him. 

"Look, Kris, what we did, it wasn't very nice, and we are so sorry," Sid started. 

Jordy was looking at his shoes, "We're just worried about you Tanger, you're like family," he added. 

"We didn't mean to upset you, can you ever forgive us?" Marc murmured to finish the apology. 

Kris took a deep breath, "I should be apologizing," he said, biting his lip, "I shouldn't have gotten so mad, it was uncalled for," he said. 

"Kris, it was our fault," Marc replied. 

"It's alright guys, can we just forget about it?" Kris asked sheepishly. They all agreed, the sensitive subject did not need to be brought up anymore, and Kris felt better when he went home that day. It was all okay. 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

 

When the playoffs rolled around, they had an easy series in the first round, then they knocked out the Rangers in the second, and the Flyers in the third. They were there, in the Stanley Cup Finals, and Kris was starting. The night before game one, Kris was sitting in a hotel room with Flower, watching a shitty movie and drinking a big bottle of water. He had some ice on his ankle that was bothering him. Kris was really tired, but sleep was not coming easily. In the middle of the movie, his phone dinged. 

Good luck tomorrow. You'll do great!- Luc 

Thanks ;) Kris typed back. Then it dinged once more a few seconds later. 

Thinking about getting a motorcycle. What do you think?- Luc

Idk, your decision Kris answered. He didn't know what to say. Motorcycles were dangerous, but Luc knew what he was doing. Kris figured he could make a good decision for himself. Kris didn't play well in game one or game two, and game three was a disaster. Kris was tired and it was showing. The fatigue from the grueling season along with this long even harder playoff push was wearing on him. Each night when he got home, Luc and him would text. Luc had bought a motor cycle the day before they played game three, and now Kris was waiting to hear back from him. He was in his apartment in Pittsburgh, some music playing when Luc called.

"Hey man," Kris said tiredly. 

"You sound beat," Luc replied. 

"I am so fucking tired," Kris complained, going to sit down on his bed. 

Luc laughed, "Why are you staying up talking to me then. Go to sleep," 

Kris sighed, "I don't know. How's the motorcycle?" 

"I think it needs fixed," Luc replied, "I'm going to get it looked at tomorrow I think. Some place over near Lamèque,"

"Oh wow, it's already messed up?" Kris asked, closing his eyes. 

"Yeah, but they'll fix it up for me, you should get one too. We could go on a biking trip," Luc replied with a grin. Kris seriously was considering it. Why not? 

"That sounds really fun. So what are we thinking this summer?" Kris said softly. 

"Another trip to the beach. That was really fun," Luc said. 

Kris had loved the summer before, "Sounds good to me. I have to get some sleep now, I'll talk to you later," 

"Bye Kris, love you man," Luc replied. 

"I love you too Luc."


	22. When Everything Falls Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody. This was rough chapter for me to write. It may be a tear jerker, maybe not. I hope you all enjoy and comment. Thanks so much for all the support I have gotten so far!

Kris locked his apartment door, his duffle bag on his shoulder. His phone started to buzz, but his hands were full so he ignored it. Kris opened his trunk in the parking lot. He put his bag in, and a piece of paper caught his eye. He grabbed it and turned it over. It was an old picture of him and Luc. Kris's eyes immediately went to the obviously black and blue eye that he had. Probably something stupid he had done. Luc was carrying Kris on his back out of the locker room, both of them grinning. Kris set the picture back down and pulled his phone out. A missed call from his agent. Kris's brow furrowed, just after game three of the Stanley Cup Finals, what did his agent have to say to him? He pressed the call button and climbed in his car, turning it on and turning the air-conditioning up. His call was answered quickly, "Hey Kris," Kent, his agent, said tiredly. 

"What's up Kent?" Kris asked curiously. 

"I have some bad news Kris," Kent said, his voice even, "Are you sitting down?" Kris's head was racing, trying to string together all the possibilities of what Kent could say. The Penguins were shopping him, they wanted to buy him out, he was in trouble with the league. 

"Yeah, I'm sitting," Kris eventually replied voice wavering. 

"I'm afraid it's about Luc," and then everything fell apart. 

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Sitting in his apartment throwing glasses against the wall wasn't Kris's idea of a good day. As every cup shattered, he felt angrier. The anger distracted from his pain. The ache in his heart, he felt like he had lost a chunk of himself. 

"Kris he's been in an accident on his motorcycle," searing, pain in his chest. He felt like he was going to throw up. 

"Is he alright? Where do I need to drive to see him?" The panic was almost overwhelming and he struggled to pull his seatbelt on. 

"Kris, they tried everything. I'm sorry," 

Kris tried to connect the words to a concept of real life, but he couldn't wrap his head around it. 

"So h-he's d-" The word got caught in Kris's throat. He struggled to get it out, "D-de-" 

"Yes, he's dead." Kent said softly. Kris just froze completely. He sat in his car for a good five minutes. 

"No," he finally said, "He, can't be gone," now he was desperately trying to get Kent to reveal that it wasn't true. Somehow, this was some sort of twisted joke. It was impossible his brain screamed, but deep down inside, Kris knew. He knew Luc was gone, and Kris knew he was alone again. There were tears everywhere, dripping down his face onto his shirt and his shorts. 

"I'm so sorry Kris. I'll call Ray and Michel. You go on home," Kent said. Kris found himself agreeing and then hanging up. *

 

Kris still couldn't come to terms with the fact that his best friend in the entire fucking world was gone. He had spent hours slumped by his car, sobbing into his hands. Luc was all he had, as close as a brother. Now here Kris was, in his living room, a girl sleeping in his bed, and he was throwing anything breakable he could find against the wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R.I.P. Luc Bourdon


	23. When You Need Someone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So last night's chapter was really short. Here's another short chapter! :) enjoy and comment :)

Marc shoved his hands in his pockets. Kris was obviously very upset. He hadn't been at practice, not that anyone had expected him, but he also didn't answer any texts or show any sign of being alright. Marc was worried. He liked the shy defenseman. The little guy with the huge heart and the great sense of humor. This kid was going to be great, and Marc knew it. 

The goalie knew how close Kris and Luc were, and that made him even more worried. It would be like Sid losing Taylor. As he turned the corner, Marc steeled himself. He was expecting to see the devastation as soon as he walked in. He almost bumped into a blond woman walking out of the apartment. Marc stared after her, but his attention was pulled away by a series of crashes. 

He rushed into the living room, and there he saw Kris throwing a glass at the wall, a lamp over turned, and all the lights out. Angry tears were clouding Kris's vision as he picked up another glass, poised to throw it, but then someone grabbed his wrist. He lashed out, trying to pull himself free, "Get off of me!" He spat. Life was so fucking unfair, and he hated being touched. The hand stayed despite his efforts and complaints. He said the meanest thing he could think of in French and in just earned him a chuckle. Kris got even more angry. The glass was pulled from his grip, and then Kris was guided into leaning against a lean body. He pulled back harder, but he was firmly held in place, and then he was crying into who ever the fuck this was, and he just didn't care anymore. Kris didn't try to pull away anymore, just gripping and holding on, letting out all the tears and pent up emotions from the day. 

Once he had relaxed substantially, Kris was finally released. He wiped his eyes, and the the first thing he saw was Marc. He poked a finger roughly into Flower's chest, a hard look in his eyes, "Don't ever do that again, I don't like to be touched," he said. Kris went to wash his face off in the kitchen. 

"Hey Kris, I just wanted to check in, I'm gonna go now," 

Kris didn't want the goalie to leave him all alone in his dark, empty apartment. "Marc?" Kris said meekly, 

"Yeah Kris?" 

"Do you think, maybe you could stay. I-I just- I-it's so lonely here. I'm sorry I snapped at you," Kris softly said. He heard Marc sigh loudly, but then he walked into the kitchen. "Do up you want anything to eat?" Kris asked, trying to be hospitable. 

"No, I'm fine. Thanks though," Marc replied. Kris nodded and pulled two beers out of the fridge. They drank in silence until Kris's phone rang. Kris took one look at the number and disappeared from the room. He stepped into the bathroom and locked the door. 

"Kris?" a shaky voice filtered through. Her voice sounded just as broken as Kris's heart. 

"Yeah Suzanne, I'm here," he said, fighting his own tears, and then he broke, "Please tell me it's not true," he practically sobbed. 

Her own sobs came through the line, "Oh Kris, I wish it wasn't true," they cried together, murmuring comforting words over the phone. "Kris, honey, the funeral," she paused trying to pull herself together, "It's in a few days, and I really hate to ask you this, but please come up," 

Kris took a deep breath, calming himself down, "I will be there. This is the only thing that matters right now," he replied, "I will try to get a flight tomorrow," 

"Ok, see you soon. Please stay safe honey. I can't lose you too," she murmured. 

"See you guys tomorrow," Kris hung up and went out and sat in the kitchen with Marc. Marc was looking through the big box of pictures that Kris had brought in from the trunk of his car. 

"Kris?" Marc said curiously. "You got hurt a whole fucking lot. There's like a new injury in every picture. Were you clumsy or something?" He said jokingly, trying to make Kris laugh. 

Kris laughed a little, a strained smile on his face, "Guess so," he said uncomfortably, "Got into some fights too, guess I just pissed people off," 

Marc raised an eyebrow, "I think you are one of the less annoying people I know. Most of my friend's are dicks," he replied. 

Kris laughed for real this time, "Marc, I think it takes one to know one. You can be quite an annoying fucker," he said with a grin. 

I take it back, you are a dick," Marc said with a fake huff of annoyance.


	24. Trying to Put the Pieces Back Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Another day off of school for me, so I figured I should get this up. I'm pretty excited because I am so close to finishing this story (obviously not everything I've written is posted) once it's done, which I will tentatively estimate for two to three weeks depending on school(no time to write during the weeks

The next morning, Marc got up at a decent time and found Kris passed out on the couch, an old picture clutched in his hands. Marc left him alone and tried to make breakfast without burning down the 21 year old's kitchen. The fact was, Marc was pretty bad at cooking for a 24 year old who had lived on his own for a while. Once he finished, Kris was up, wiping the sleep from his eyes as he sipped some coffee at the table. 

After they ate, Kris sat on the couch, searching for plane tickets on his laptop. "Marc, grab my wallet, I need to put my credit card in," he called. 

The goalie hunted around for it while Kris bitched at him to hurry up. He finally found it, buried near Kris's hockey bag and another big box of old pictures. Marc brought Kris his wallet and then went back to look through the box. There were a lot of pictures of Kris and Luc when they were little, but Marc's favorite was little Kris, almost swimming in a huge jersey and Luc tucking it into the back of his pants. Marc took the picture and tucked it into his own wallet. 

Kris started packing a little bag, and Marc attempted to help him. He tried to fold the clothes so Kris could put them in the bag. Kris laughed and sent him to get stuff after observing his poor skills. Marc glared at the defenseman who was laughing at him even after he had gone to get some clothes from Kris's bedroom. "How come you're so independent?" Marc asked, a hint of mocking in his voice. 

"I was on my own a lot, just picked up stuff as I went," he replied, "Luc's mom taught me a lot. She is practically like a second mother to me," Kris's voice cracked on his friend's name, and Marc didn't know what to say. Kris closed his eyes, pulling himself together. He grabbed the bag and pulled it closer, shoving the few changes of clothes he had sent Marc to grab from his drawers. He threw in his deodorant and razor along with a toothbrush and his shampoo. Once he had enough to last a little while, he took the bag out to the couch. He figured he would buy a new suit for the funeral once he got up to Canada. He set the bag down and then hopped in the shower. When he got out he pulled on a pair of jeans and a fuzzy maroon sweater. He grabbed his soft grey beanie and some boots. Marc was still in the living room, so they played some video games. Kris had a beer and Marc ate a sandwich. Eventually, Kris had to leave so he could catch his flight, so he grabbed all of his stuff and turned to Marc, "Mind taking me to the airport?" He asked. 

"No problem," Marc replied. Kris locked the door to his apartment, and he got in Marc's car. Once they were at the airport, he hugged Marc goodbye, and went in. He made it through security with plenty of time, and when he finally was on the plane and they took off, he felt the weight of Luc's death on his chest once more. 

Christmas Eve, 2002

Kris was laying bed, covered in blankets, sound asleep. He was jolted awake by a body landing on top of him. "Luc!" He exclaimed. Luc held a finger up to his mouth and shushed Kris, a wicked look in his eyes. He motioned for Kris to follow him. Kris threw his covers off, and they quietly made their way down the stairs. Kris froze a little bit when the stair creaked. They eventually made it to the living room and Luc quietly approached the tree. "Luc what are you doing?" Kris hissed as his best friend picked up a package and shook it a little. 

"Opening presents," the other boy simply responded, picking carefully at the tape on the side of the box. Kris's heart was pounding in his chest. What if they got caught? Luc had the side of the first present carefully opened in a way that he could easily tape it again. He slid the box out and opened it, finding NHL 2003 for their PS2 and a few other games. Luc was grinning and Kris still was a lite apprehensive. "Relax," Luc whispered, "It's only one present." They plugged it in a played for a few hours, the tv muted, before carefully rewrapping it and going back up to their room. Kris fell asleep a grin on his face.

........

Freshman Year

Kris was having a bad day, he failed a math test, and was late to another class. He was so stressed out, and his demeanor showed it. It was finally lunch time and he made his way into the cafeteria, setting his bag down on a chair. Picking at food was kind of normal considering the food was absolute shit. Luc would be in soon, and Kris was already feeling a little better. Then, he found himself on the floor, having been shoved out of his chair. Standing there laughing was a senior, and coincidentally his least favorite person in the whole school. Henri Duchene. Henri was easily three times Kris's size, and when he grabbed Kris's shirt and hauled him up to his feet, he didn't even break a sweat. "Hey runt," the boy said. Kris didn't know what it was, but he was a trouble magnet. It was always something. He was about to say something when a voice came from behind them, 

"Shut the fuck up Henri, and put him down," Kris sighed in relief. Luc was here. The large boy who still had Kris dangling by the tee shirt just laughed. 

"What are you going to do about it Bourdon?" Henri taunted. 

Kris gulped, and Luc ran at Henri, tackling him, and Kris found himself back on his feet. Luc ended up with a nasty black eye, and got suspended for fighting, but it was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for Kris. 

……..

February 2001

Kris laid in bed, shivering. It was snowing outside, and he was cold. Kris missed his Mom. He hadn't seen her in months, and it was so hard for him. The tears came pretty quickly, and Kris tried to wipe them away, but everything sucked, and he couldn't make them stop. He clutched a pillow, closing his eyes and attempting to get a grip on himself. Then there was a soft whisper from across the room, "Kris?" was the first tentative word. Kris gulped, and closed his eyes, trying to pretend he was asleep. The whole situation embarrassed him. He shouldn't be crying, he was fourteen for christ's sake. "Kris? Are you alright?" Was the second thing Luc said. Kris stayed quiet once again, and at first he thought Luc was going to leave him alone, but then there was a dip in bed beside him as his friend climbed under the covers. "Hey," Luc said softly. 

Kris sniffled, "Hi," he said back. Luc hugged Kris, and despite a few tears escaping, Kris felt much better. When he fell asleep, Kris felt warm and safe and okay. 

.........

Each new memory of Luc brought more tears to Kris's eyes. He was almost sobbing on the airplane, and it was so bad. Trying to calm down never really worked for Kris, so when he began to sob, he just let it happen. After a few minutes, the flight attendant came by to check on him, and make sure he was alright. He nodded a little, and tearfully explained that his best friend had just died. It was hard for him to say. Once she finally left him alone, Kris pulled his phone out. He knew he wasn't supposed to use it, but right now he needed it. Kris dialed Luc's number, and held it up to his ear. Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, 'Hello, you have reached Luc Bourdon. Please leave your name and number and I'll get back to you as soon as possible.' Kris hung up, and cried even a little harder. He would never hear Luc's voice again, never hear him play the guitar again, never see him play hockey, never play video games with him, he was gone and it wasn't fucking fair. Why couldn't Kris have been the one to die! Somehow, the literal nicest person in the entire world had died at 21 years old, and Kris just wished it had been him.


	25. Back to the Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey Everybody! So as I've said before, I am nearing the end of this story, and I am curious about if you guys would rather I just post everything when I complete it or if you would rather I just post on Fridays. I would love it if you guys let me know! Thanks so much to everyone who reads and comments! :)

When the plane finally landed, he numbly collected all of his things and then grabbed his luggage. Kris made his way to the parking lot, and then there she was. Kris hugged Suzanne tightly, crying softly into her shirt. 

They eventually made it back to the house, and when Kris had to go into their old bedroom, everything kept the same, his emotions hit him like a truck once more. Some of the numbness he had thankfully started to develop melted away, and Kris felt a fucking searing pain in his chest. It felt like someone had ripped his heart out and made him eat it. It felt like an elephant was sitting on his chest, or someone was slowly strangling the life out of him. Suzanne found him rocking slowly in the corner, trying to keep his mind clear. She held him, and they both sobbed for hours. 

 

The funeral was the hardest part for Kris. He choked when it was his turn to say a few words. When he passed by Luc's coffin, he broke. Kris sat beside it and wouldn't leave. He cried for hours, not giving a fuck about what other people thought. 

"Luc," he murmured, now alone with the coffin, "I miss you so fucking much," he softly said, "I feel so alone, why did you have to die?" Kris paused, sniffling, "Why couldn't it have been me? You could still be here," it was silent for a little while, "The universe never liked me. I think I was meant to die, why else would I have been born into such a horrible home. Then somehow I escaped my fate and now where ever I go I cause pain. Why couldn't you have seen I wasn't worth it!" Kris exclaimed suddenly angry, "I was never fucking worth your time, but you were so damn nice. Maybe if you never knew me, maybe you would still be here," he sobbed, voice breaking on the last sentence. Eventually Suzanne came to get him, and he let her guide him out of the room, and to the car. Kris felt that searing pain in his chest once more. He laid down when they got back to the house, and eventually fell asleep, pillow stained with tears. 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Marc-Andre Fleury sat in his stall, head in his hands. He could not believe they had lost. Sure, the Red Wings were better, and sure, the Penguins were definitely the underdog, but there was always the hope. Hell, they were even calledThe Never Say Die Penguins. Yet, despite all of the fucking hope, the damn journey they went through to even get to this point, here they were, sulking, crying even in the locker room of Mellon Arena. Detroit was off celebrating, and Marc couldn't help but feel responsible for the lost. His job was to keep the puck out of the net, and tonight he didn't do it well enough. He was going to be kicking himself for that third goal for a long time. Marc's thoughts turned to Kris as he caught sight of the picture he had stolen from Kris's house. It was hanging in his locker, to remind him of what he was playing for. Tonight he had forgotten to take a nice long look at it before the game, he had forgotten his purpose, his motivation. What business did the goalie have feeling sorry for himself? Kris Letang was off, heart broken, at his closest friend's funeral, and here Marc was sulking about losing a sporting event. When the media came in, he tried to be strong for the team, answering questions, but the last one hit him hard. "Marc, what do think will be the most important thing for the team this summer?" 

"Um, I think we need to remember what is most important right now. One of our teammates, and a close friend of mine, Kris Letang, just lost his best friend. I really think we should be there for him and support him. That is what this is all about. We can play well and lose, but at the end of the day what really matters is the others in our lives. I think we should all go home, be upset about the loss, help Kris through this tough time, and come back a stronger team next year,"


	26. It's Okay to Be Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am sooooo close!!!!! I hated being unable to work more this week because I got sick. I was really hoping to finish writing this. I am so excited for the end and to post the rest of what I have written.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter :) comment!! :)

When he got the text from Marc that the Penguin's had lost, Kris tried to be upset, even just a little, but to be truthful, he couldn't have cared less at that point. He was struggling enough as it was. He sat, huddled up in their childhood bed room, revisiting the past in his mind. It was a constant struggle to eat and get out of bed. He made himself go to the gym every morning. Luc would want him to be okay, Luc would want him to be strong for Suzanne, but most of all, Luc would want Kris to go out there and fight harder and make himself a great career. No one had ever believed in Kris like Luc. Anytime Kris got too low, Luc brought him back up. And then Kris was sobbing again. He took a few deep breaths, and wiped his face on his tan long sleeved shirt. He hated to cry, it made him feel week. Kris stood up, and slowly walked down the stairs, pulling his converse high tops on at the door. "M'going for a walk!" He called, shoving his phone into his back pocket. He walked out side, the air chilly. It was dark out, and the temperature had dropped. He felt cold, shoving his hands into the uncomfortable pockets of his worn, old jeans. The navy beanie he had pulled on helped keep him on the warm side. Walking to the woods alone felt refreshing, and when he was finally there, he made his way through the maze of trees and finally found a good place to sit. By now, it was almost pitch black out, but he had a little flashlight in his pocket. 

After a little while, Kris just felt so tired and dozed off a little. He jolted awake at the sound of his phone. Vision bleary, he caught the time 1:00 AM. Kris hit the accept button and drowsily answered, "Hello?" 

"Oh my God, Kris, you gave me a heart attack! Honey, where are you?" Suzanne asked worriedly. 

Kris felt a sharp pang of regret, after everything they'd gone through, how could he be so careless? Suzanne must have been worried to death. "M'sorry," he softly said, "I fell asleep in the woods," Kris stood up and started to try and find his way back, Suzanne still talking to him on the phone. He kept walking the way he came in, or at least he thought it was the right way. Kris stopped eventually, he didn't know where he was. There was some panic rising up in his chest. He gulped, "I think I'm lost," he quietly murmured. 

"Okay Kris, it's alright," Suzanne replied reassuringly. "I'll come and find you," she needed to keep him calm. It he had a melt down in the middle of the night in the woods all alone, it would just be devastating for him. He didn't need anymore trauma right now. Kris sat down, head in between his knees. 

"I don't feel so good," he softly said. He was starting to feel dizzy. What if she didn't find him? What if he was out here all alone? Kris clenched his hand, trying to hold back to panic attack he felt coming on. Suzanne murmured comfortingly to him. It felt like a long time before she finally found him. She helped him to the car, and he was quiet on the way home. He had hugged her so tightly when she finally found him, propped up against a tree. He looked like he was going to throw up. Kris was so tired, so he passed out in bed after pulling his shirt off. Somehow, he would be okay, somehow, Kris was going to make it through this. He would make Luc proud. 

 

…………………………………….…………..………….…………….….……………………….............

Sitting on Luc's bed, clutching a pillow was what Kris liked to do in the afternoons. Right now, he was going through the box Suzanne had given him a day after he had arrived in Canada. It was stuff that Luc had with him when he died. Kris hadn't been able to go through it before, but now, he felt like it was time. Digging through the box brought tears to his eyes. Luc's wallet, a baseball cap, torn and a little bloody, and at the bottom of the box, he found it. There was the silver ring, Celtic designs swirling around it. It was the one Luc had received after the draft from Suzanne. Kris grabbed it, and clutched it tightly. It was dented a little, and it felt like it may break along one of the sides. Kris felt new tears welling up in his eyes much faster than before. He took off the small silver chain he was wearing, and put the ring on it before putting the necklace on once again. It hung down, close to his heart, and Kris felt the need to clutch it at times. Holding it made him feel like Luc was close. When he dug around in the wallet, he found some old pictures, and the Canucks guitar pick he had given Luc on draft day. 

Kris didn't know what to with the pick. He didn't really know what to do with himself anymore. Everything was such a damn blur since the accident. Marc had texted him multiple times, but Kris hadn't answered. He had needed some time to himself, but today, alone at the house, he felt lonely. 

His phone dinged, just like everyday. Hey Kris, how's it going, was the text. Kris bit his lip, and started to type. 

Not so great, u? He finally answered. Right away Marc replied, 

Sucks, you coming up to Pitt soon? Offseason is almost over  
Kris honestly didn't know the answer. Maybe idk, he eventually replied. 

Hurry back. I'd rather not be alone with these losers. :) 

Kris laughed at Marc's text and then sent one of his own. I still need some time. Depression sucks.

Fuck that, can't wait to see you kid. 

Kris grinned. Maybe in a week or two, the defenseman replied. Kris closed his phone and put it in his pocket, but after that, when Marc texted, Kris usually answered. 

 

…………………………………….…………..………….…………….….……………………….............

When Kris was packing to leave Canada, he went slow. He didn't really want to leave Suzanne. She was all he had left. Never the less, camp started in a few days, and Kris needed to get back to Pittsburgh. Marc had been texting him for the past few weeks, and Kris had put off going back until he had to. He was excited to a degree, but everything seemed tinted dark since Luc died. Kris hadn't felt whole in a long time, but when Luc died, it felt like someone ripped another chunk of his heart out. He was struggling to see anything positive, and it was a hard process. He finally had all of his shit together in a bag, and he took it down and set it by the door. 

Suzanne had lunch ready. Kris sat down and tried to eat a whole plateful, but his appetite was not there. He ate two thirds of it, and then set the rest down for the dog. When it was finally time to leave, he hugged Suzanne, promised to fly her down for some games, and then he got into a cab and it took him to the airport. The plane flight was long and annoying, but when he touched down in Pittsburgh, he was really happy that he felt okay. He didn't feel like he was going to break into a million pieces. He felt like he would survive, and even if wasn't great, it was okay, and Kris had always had to be alright when it was just okay. Okay was fine with him.


	27. Ghosts of the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A real short one this week. Maybe something else will go up tomorrow, not sure. Enjoy and comment!!! :)

2009 was a year to remember for Kris. Experiencing the ups and downs the Penguins went through was not only humbling, but he felt so much more appreciative when they made the playoffs. Marc was a godsend. He helped Kris through his emotions, made him feel like a person. The best part was, every time Kris accomplished something, every thing he did, he thought of Luc. All of it was for Luc, to make his best friend as proud as he could be. When Kris scored the game winner in game three against the Capitals, it was a feeling like no other. He looked up at the sky, and smiled. He clutched at the necklace, the ring sitting right above his heart. When Kris hoisted that Stanley Cup above his head, when he felt the emotions running rampant, when he looked over and saw Marc grinning at him, he looked up and prayed that Luc was looking down at him. "Thanks for everything Luc," he murmured to himself, "Wouldn't be here without you, all of this is for you," 

Marc skated over, a huge grin, "Kris, c'mon, we're going in the locker room," 

"Fuck you, wait a second," Kris replied, handing the trophy off, and skating over to the man he had wanted to talk to all night. When he stood in front of Mario Lemieux, Kris forgot how to speak. 

"Kris, great job! We would not be here with out you kid. You have quite the future ahead of you," Mario said. 

Kris hugged him, "Thank you so much, for everything," Mario grinned and then Kris trailed after Marc into the locker room. 

It was a party in the locker room, Sid couldn't stop smiling and Jordy was right there next to him. Kris followed Marc, and they took their jerseys off and pulled on the championship shirts and hats. Kris grinned when they got out the alcohol, and after a few drinks, he felt nice and buzzed. 

Kris could not stop thinking about the weird thing that had happened during the second period. He had been playing and periodically, he would just see Luc in the crowd, giving him a thumbs up, or on the bench, still a kid, a grin on his face, skating next to him where Mark Eaton should have been, even across from him in the locker room, changing clothes. Kris looked up, and jerked back, there Luc was again, walking towards him, "Nice game Tanger, you played so fucking good man," Kris blinked and there stood Jordy. 

"What the actual fuck," Kris muttered. 

"What's wrong Tanger? You see," Geno paused in the middle of his question, "Gonch! What is English word for призрак?" He yelled obnoxiously across the room at the elder Russian. 

"Ghost, Geno!" Sergei yelled back. 

"See Ghost Tanger?" Geno asked. 

Kris nodded a little, "Pretty much. Fuck," he murmured.

Marc came over and sat by him, "Drunk hallucinations, huh? I think you may have had enough," The goalie tried to take his cup, but Kris held on to it. This was the only thing keeping him sane right now. A few more wouldn't hurt, they may help him forget. 

"I'm fine, Marc, I can handle myself," Kris swayed a little when he said that, almost falling over. 

Marc laughed at him, "Sure you can kid, what ever you say," 

"Quéquette," Kris said under his breath towards the goalie. 

Marc heard him and began to laugh. Geno looked confused and looked questioningly towards Duper who was also laughing. "He called him a dick, Geno," 

Sergei piped up, "хуй, Geno," 

Geno frowned, "Not that stupid Sergei! Know what dick means," he said shaking his head. Everyone laughed, and Kris forgot about the weird experience for a little bit. The rest of the night was kind of a blur, but there definitely was a lot of alcohol and at one point there was a pineapple and Kris wasn't sure but he thought there was a dolphin. Whatever happened, Kris didn't remember any of it the next morning.


	28. Back to Where It Began

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So huge news: I FINALLY FINISHED!!! I'm hoping to edit and post all of the new chapters this weekend, and omg I am so happy. I will be releasing an author's not probably a few days after I get everything up so definitely keep an eye out for that. I am really excited to get it all posted for everyone to see and although I'm sure this book isn't perfect, I am so proud of everything I put into it. 
> 
> Anyways, please enjoy this chapter and leave me wonderful comments!! :)

He stared at the water. There was a lot of noise around him, but his world was silent as dropped his mini duffle bag. "Hey Kris," who's voice was that he thought, Sid was the name that popped up in his head. He gave a weak wave toward the speaker. 

"Get in here Tanger!" Brooks called. Kris truthfully didn't even know why he was here. He hated water. He was frozen by the side. Kris's heart was pounding so loud in his chest he was sure everyone could hear it. 

"Tanger?" No answer. Sergei swam over by him, "Kris are you ok?" He nodded, it was a complete lie, but he wouldn't let himself show weakness, show them that he wasn't worth their time.

"I'm fine, just still in shock that we won he added with a fake smile and a laugh. He slowly grabbed the hem of his v-neck shirt and pulled it up over his head slowly revealing his toned muscles. He set it in his bag after slowly folding it. The grey shirt hung halfway out of is duffle. He untied his grey converse, and then as he stood on the side of the pool and smoothed out his white swim trunks with purple Hawaiian flowers that he had just bought for today, he didn't hear the footsteps behind him. 

He only realized that someone was there when he felt their hands on his shoulder blades. Before he could figure out what was going on, he was falling into the water. He came up, already panicking. He grabbed the side of the pool, taking a deep breath, trying to fight off the images that were flashing in his mind. *darkness everywhere, he couldn't see* Kris took another shaky breath 

*Water running, he couldn't move* the fear was building up in his chest, tears welling in his eyes. *He couldn't breathe, water everywhere, it felt like someone was punching him. He was struggling, clawing at the strong arms that kept him there* Kris was shaking and he couldn't stay there any longer. He pulled himself up out of the water and ignored the questions from his teammates and Marc's concerned voice. He picked his stuff up and brushed by the goalie who obviously was the one who pushed him in. He found the bathroom, and toweled off. He was struggling to control his breathing as his hair dripped water onto his face. 

Kris could still fell the iron grip that kept him in place, the ache in his chest as he tried to breath. *Kris was on his hands and knees, sucking in breath greedily, he fell on his side as he was kicked in the stomach, 

"Be in the backyard in five minutes and don't let this happen again boy," was all the deep voice said before disappearing from sight. * Kris was huddled in the corner of Mario's bathroom dripping and sobbing, "Arrête," he murmured, "S'il te plaît, arrête," he continued to cry and ignored the knocking on the door. "Luc," he said softly, digging for his phone. He hadn't done this for months, but as his hands dialed the familiar number, he felt safer. It beeped a few times and he got some shit message about a disconnected number, "Non," he murmured, "I need to hear your voice, Luc," he spit out frantically into the phone, "Luc," he sobbed. Kris sobbed for his best friend, he sobbed for a man that had always been there for him, but most of all Kris sobbed for the only man he had ever trusted. "Tu me manques, Luc, I need you,"

There was some soft knocking at the door. "Tais-toi!" Kris said loudly, "Je suis malade, et j'ai mal a ma tête," 

"Kris?" Came the soft voice, "It's Mario, are you okay?" 

Kris sniffled, "Yeah," he said softly, putting on a strong face. He stood up, and unlocked the door. Marc tried to stop him and apologize, but Kris wanted to be on his own for a little bit. Mario took him into the kitchen, and Nathalie made him a mug of warm tea. Kris tried to protest when Mario ordered him in some food, but they shushed him. He drank it, a towel draped around his shoulders, trying to stop the tremor he still had. Sid brought the Cup in the kitchen so Kris could be around it. When Mario tried to talk to Kris about what happened, Kris kind of just brushed it off and went silent. He held the cup for a little bit, carrying it around before eating the food Mario had so generously ordered, and then changing his clothes and heading home. On his way into his apartment, his phone dinged, Kris, I am so so fucking sorry. -Marc

It's ok Flower -Kris

Kris took some Advil and went to bed to sleep off his headache. 

 

…………………………………….…………..………….…………….….……………………….............

Kris shivered and rubbed his shoulders, trying to keep warm. The sky was dark, sparking stars scattered across the navy sky. Kris had a bag of fucking McDonalds which was food he didn't even like, but there really weren't many options in the airport and he had been in a rush. He unwrapped whatever this burger thing was, and took a bite. It wasn't terrible. Kris had definitely had way better hamburgers than this one, but he didn't feel like he was going to throw up...yet. He picked at the fries. His nutritionist would murder him if he saw Kris right now. Kris smiled as he remembered the one time Luc and...

Kris set his food down. Luc. The past few weeks had been tough for Kris. The anniversary of Luc's death was terrible. He had woken up, feeling sluggish and like he was going to throw up. Kris had not gone to practice, in stead sitting at home, in the dark, a bottle of whiskey in his hand. He stared at the ceiling for part of the day, and at one point, he was actually crying. It had hurt so fucking bad. His chest, his head, his stomach had been uneasy. Marc had stopped by with a few dinners from some of the wives, and Kris had curtly thanked him and then gone back inside. Marc followed him, sitting in the living room in the dark alongside the defenseman for a few hours. The goalie had even warmed him up food to make sure he ate. Kris didn't actually get around to making himself eat it until it was cold, but it was a nice gesture. 

Kris opened his eyes, with a sigh and took another bite of the burger. He suddenly wasn't really hungry. This trip was hard for Kris anyways. He was flying to Montréal, to go visit his Mom. Kris was nervous. He hadn't seen her in nine years. Would she be angry, would she cry? He was going to surprise her, and then Suzanne would meet him in a week and they would head home to Shippigan where he and Luc had bought a nice house for her a few years back. 

"Hey Kris, you know we can order food right? You don't have eat that shit," Marc said as he sat down in the plane seat next to Kris. He grabbed the food Kris had on the tray in front of him, and shoved it into the paper bag and then into his own carry on. He handed Kris a menu, "My treat," 

Once they had actual food that didn't make Kris nervous to know what was inside of it, Kris turned towards Marc. "Thanks for coming with me," he said softly. 

"No problem, and it's an extra day with the cup for me," the goalie said, a cheeky grin on his face. Kris ran a hand down the side of the cup. It was buckled into the seat in between him and Marc. He felt the engraving and stopped at his name on bottom. He had finally done it. Kris honestly wondered if his father was proud of him, if he could ever make his father proud, it would be the best day of Kris's life. His dad... And Marc. Kris hadn't thought about that before. 

"Listen, when we get to my house, you think you could wait in the car a few minutes? I have something I have to do alone," Kris said absently, still tracing names with his finger. 

"Sure," Marc replied, "It's your day with the Cup kid," the goalie smiled at Kris. The kid looked preoccupied, and Marc had no idea what Kris was so worried about. He figured Kris was just thinking about Luc again. Sometimes he got a certain look in his eyes, and Marc knew he was going to play a great game, but the odd thing was, when he talked about Luc, he would get the same look. Marc figured Kris played for Luc, every night, the defenseman played in the memory of his best friend. That was one of many things Marc could admire about Kris, he went through something so hard and came out stronger. It may take a little while, but Marc knew Kris was going to be a star, and Marc hoped it was sooner than later.


	29. Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone enjoys this chapter hopefully I will get like ten up tomorrow. I actual,y am not quite sure hoe many there will be after this, but I hope they will all be up by Monday! Please enjoy and comment!

Kris felt a twisting feeling in his gut. The anticipation, the nerves, they almost were overwhelming him. Marc sat next to him in the car, and Kris peeked over at the goalie. Marc was on his phone. Kris looked out the window a few seconds, taking a deep breath as he saw the familiar house. There was the blood stain on the rock by the front door from that horrible night. Kris grabbed the Cup, and poked his head in the car. "I'll come get in you in a few minutes," he said softly to the goalie, digging his wallet out to pay the driver. 

Kris slowly walked up to the front door, and then he knocked on it. A man he didn't recognize answered the door. "Salut," 

Kris was taken aback a little bit, "Oh, uh, salut," he stumbled through his words. "Moi, je cherche Mme. Letang," he said softly. 

"Dis, ne quittez." The man softly said, leaning back inside a little bit. "Christiane!" The man was giving him odd looks, recognizing the Stanley Cup, that Kris had in his hands.

Kris's heart skipped a beat, when he heard her footsteps. "What Michel?" Kris gulped, her voice was just as warm as he remembered. She stopped dead in her tracks. "K-" she brought a hand up to her mouth, "Kris? Is that you honey?" Kris nodded, his eyes shining with unshed tears. He set the cup down gently. 

"Mom," he murmured raggedly. She rushed down into his arms, and they were both crying. 

"Oh baby, I thought I would never see you again," she whispered right by his ear, her voice broken with sobs. One hand stroked his hair, the other was holding him tight. "My little boy, all grown up," 

"Maman, I missed you so much. I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry," he muttered into her shoulder.

"It's fine baby, it's all okay," she whispered back. His tears were soaking her shirt, but no one cared. It was just a mother seeing her son for the first time in 9 years, and the only thing they wanted was to hold on as long as they could. When Kris finally pulled himself together, and they pulled apart, he was smiling. "Kris honey, you've grown so much," she said softly. She turned and there was the weird guy who answered the door again. "Michel, this is Kris. Kris, this is your step father, Michel," Kris smiled, that meant his dad wasn't here. He shook the man's hand. 

"Good to meet you Kris, your mother has told me so much about you," he said warmly. Kris liked him already. Kris picked up the cup, and wiped his face on the sleeve of his shirt. 

"I have someone I think you guys would like to meet," he said with a small smile. He walked back to the car and knocked on the window. 

"Finally you little fucker, you took your damn time," Marc said dramatically as he got out of the car. He playfully snatched the cup from Kris, "Gimme that," Kris stole it back and then they walked up to the house. 

"Mom, this is Marc, he is one of my closest friends," Kris said, a smile on his face. "Marc, this is my Mom," 

"Nice to meet you Mrs. Le-" Marc was cut off when he pulled into a hug. After she pulled away, Marc went in to the house, and Kris stayed back with his Mom.

"Look Kris," she said softly, "I think I owe you an apology. I should have protected you better, but I let your father hurt you. I just..." She started to cry a little bit, "I didn't know what to do," she admitted. 

"Mom, it's okay, I'm okay. I forgive you," he replied, hugging her. Later during dinner, Kris wacked Marc in the back of the head for being an annoying fucker. 

"Behave, would you dumb ass?" Kris hissed jokingly. Marc stuck his tongue out childishly, but they both laughed. The house was much less tense than Kris remembered. When he went upstairs, he almost threw up a little when he saw that bathroom. He hated it in there. Too many bad memories. He found his childhood room just like he had left it. The extra set of crutches leaning against the wall, his posters and comics. He pulled out the air mattress and blew it up for Marc to sleep on. They played some video games that night after Kris spent a lot of it in the living room with his mom. Around midnight, Kris got up and pulled some jeans on. He grabbed a button down and his converse, and sprayed some extra cologne on himself. He walked past Marc who was lazily laying on his mattress and playing on his phone. 

"Where the fuck are you going?" Marc asked. Kris turned and looked at the other man, running a hand through his hair to make it look better. 

"Out. You can come if you want," Kris replied, grabbing his phone, and his wallet. Marc stood up and struggled into his own jeans and borrowed a nice shirt from Kris. It was a little too big in the arms and the chest, but a little short over all. The sleeves only went down to his forearms, despite being too big for his biceps. He rolled the sleeves and pulled on some sneakers. They left and he followed Kris to the car. They drove to a little bar, and when Kris walked in, a man came up and hugged him. "Marshall," Kris said warmly, "It's been a while," 

"Kris Letang, what brings you to these parts, you bring the cup with you, big shot?" Marshall asked. 

Kris shook his head, "Don't want it getting hurt," he said with a grin. Marc smiled and they went to sit at the bar, 

"The usual?" Marshall asked. 

Kris nodded and then turned to Marc, "What do you want Flower?" 

Marc mulled over the assortment of alcohol. "Yukon Jack," he finally said. Marshall set down a glass of whiskey on ice in front of Kris, just leaving the whole bottle. He handed Marc a shot glass and poured some Yukon Jack into it. 

"Hey Marsh," Kris called after taking a drink. "Is Catherine here?" Marshall nodded. Kris grinned and called back, "Send her one of those pink, girly drinks so she knows it's from me," Marshall laughed and began to make a drink. 

"So big shot," Marc said jokingly. 

"Aw shut up Flower," Kris replied with a grin, "You won us the cup anyways," 

Marc rolled his eyes, "You scored the game winner versus Washington, and you tied it up on the Power play versus the Wings," 

Kris laughed when hands covered his eyes from behind, "Guess who," came the light feminine voice, and he smiled. 

"Catherine," he said warmly. She took her hands off his eyes, and giggled. He drank some more from his cup. "Did you enjoy what I sent you?" 

"You know I hate those," she said, a huge smile on her face. 

Kris laughed. "You knew it was from me though," he replied. He poured more whiskey into his glass, and drank more. Catherine sat right in between Kris and Marc. She flirted with Kris for the better part of an hour while Kris managed to polish off the bottle Marshall had left him. Kris threw enough money to cover all three of their tabs on the counter before leaving with who ever that girl had been. Marc was left all alone to stare at the empty bottle of whiskey. Kris, a fucking 22 year old kid, had just drank the entire bottle in about an hour. He hadn't even seemed all that drunk when he left either, a little wobbly and his speech had been pretty slurred, but overall he had been decently coherent. Marc honestly was kind of glad they left, they hadn't been able to keep their hands off of each other and Marc did not need to be right there next to them. He found his way back to Kris's house, and the defenseman stumbled in sometime during the wee hours of the morning. 

……....…..……...................………………….............................

"Wait, wait, wait," Derrick interrupted. He was currently on Marc's couch, a beer in his hand and a game on in the beach ground. "You're shitting me aren't you, you asshole, you are fucking with me. This is too crazy," he said, trying to get a grip on the goalie's story. 

"I know it's insane Derrick, but I promise, I'm not fucking with you kid. This all really did happen," Marc said, "And I need another beer because it gets crazier, so why don't you go grab two more," 

Derrick stood up and laughed a little before heading to the kitchen and grabbing beers from the fridge. Once he was back on the couch, Marc started up again, "A few nights later, Kris was at another bar and this time I stayed home, and there was an incident..."


	30. Same Old Faces, Same Old Problems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's another one, hopefully a few more will be up within the hour! Enjoy and comment!

Kris wasn't entirely sure how he got into these situations. He had been at a bar in Montreal and across the room sat a familiar man. Kris felt sick as soon as he saw the man. He tried to leave before he was recognized, but to get out the door, he had walk right past his father. Even with his hood up, and sunglasses, his dad saw him. "Kris?" He said softly. Kris stopped, that was the nicest tone his dad had ever used with him. He turned towards his dad, 

"Dad?" He asked hopefully. 

"Kris, it is you," the older man said. Kris honestly didn't know what to do. The man had never even acted kind towards him. "Sit down, order a drink," Kris gulped, he sat down nervously. A glass of whiskey was brought out. Kris sipped it, trying to calm his nerves. His dad asked him a few questions, but then it turned bad. "You should come to my house, it's been awhile kid," his dad said. 

"I'd rather not dad," he said softly. 

"What?" His dad asked, face hardening slightly. The alcohol never made things better, and Kris remembered what happened when his dad drank. All of the sudden, he didn't feel very safe. 

"I-I'm going to go," Kris said, trying to get away from the bad situation that was progressively getting worse. The table was overturned, drenching Kris in whiskey and cheep beer. It fell on him, pinning him to the ground. When he finally pushed the heavy table off, the older man was immediately on top of him. 

A punch to the face, a bloody nose and a cracked rib from being thrown into some tables later and he wasn't feeling so hot. Sobbing on the ground was embarrassing and after his dad left, the bar tender was there to see if he was alright. He brushed off everyone's concerns after pulling himself together. How could he be such an idiot? To let his guard down after everything, to open himself up just to be crushed again, Kris couldn't believe himself. He left after assuring them he would be alright and asking that they wouldn't call the police. Kris drove home, trying to stop the bleeding from his nose. When he walked into his mom's house, he was fussed over, "Kris, honey what happened you? You're bleeding," she said, alarmed. 

"Don't want to talk about it," he murmured. She brought him a warm wash cloth, and cleaned his face up. Kris was just glad Marc was upstairs right now. He was embarrassed enough that his own mother had to see him this weak, but if Marc saw him like this, he would never be able to look him in the eyes again. If the goalie knew how pathetic Kris was, he knew Marc would be ashamed to know him, and Kris just couldn't let that happen.

…….…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Coming back to Pittsburgh didn't help anything. Kris didn't even understand how his dad kept finding him, but keeping a baseball bat in his closet turned out to be a bad decision. He just wished he had realized that before he was in his living room, nearly choking on his own blood, and his ribs and side feeling like the bones were completely shattered. Kris was glad it was only a wooden bat. He had to throw out the rug he had stained with blood. Marc called, but he let it go to voicemail. He didn't trust himself to be able to talk right now. Everything was a mess and once again, he was too weak to stand up for himself. He was God damned hockey player, he could protect himself, but he was too much of a wimp. Kris hated fighting, it made him upset, and he just felt horrible if he punched someone. Was it worth it to let himself get beat up like this? Should he fight back? 

Kris hesitantly turned the water on in the shower. He let it get warm, peeling his sweatpants off. He hadn't been wearing a shirt. Kris took a few calming breaths, and then stepped under the warm stream of water. It hurt, his skin raw, splinters sticking out some places, ugly purple marring his usually soft, cream colored chest. Kris tried to gently pull some of splintered wood out, grimacing each time. He had been in the shower a while, and that stupid panicky feeling began to build in his chest. It was time for him to get out and dry off or it could very possibly turn into a melt down. Laying down felt nice after the tough day, and Kris fell asleep quickly. Nightmares plagued him relentlessly. He would wake himself up, but as soon as he closed his eyes, another one began. 

He dragged himself up out bed in the middle of the night. He couldn't sleep so there was no use in laying in bed. He sat in the living room, cup of coffee in his hand, tv on low. He was so exhausted, but he could not let himself fall asleep. It was too much for him to handle. His phone dinged from across the room, so Kris stood up and walked over to pick it up and open it. 

Wanna hang out? Just got in from Canada, not tired- Marc 

Kris smiled, Yeah sure, I could use some company- Kris

Cool! I'll be over in a few minutes- Marc

Kris panicked just a little. It was kind of a mess in here, evidence from the earlier incident still on the floor. Um, it's kind of a mess in my apartment, how about your place?- Kris

I'm already out though, I don't care if it's messy- Marc 

Kris rolled his eyes, why couldn't Marc just listen? I'd really rather not be at my place- Kris 

Why not?- Marc

Kris was done at this point, I just don't fucking want to okay- Kris

Okay, okay, just come over to mine then- Marc

Kris took a deep breath. He needed to calm down some. Want me to pick up food?- Kris

If you're paying- Marc 

Kris laughed a little, Says the man with the bigger contract- Kris

Kris left his house after pulling on a sweatshirt and some shorts. He slipped his flip flops on as he walked out the door. He hopped in his car and drove to Marc's house, stopping for some deli sandwiches and some beer. Breathing hurt a lot. His chest ached and moving was almost excruciating. Kris was surprised at how hard and suddenly the pain hit him. He figured it had something to do with shock and the fact that it was his ribs. They had obviously hurt earlier, but now it was almost ten times worse. He was nearly doubled over and wheezing, trying to get up the stairs to Marc's apartment. When Marc let him in, Kris tried to act like he was okay. Eventually he had to get some pain killers or he was going to lose it. Marc got him some Advil when Kris lied and said he had a headache. Kris was sadly pretty sure he needed to see a doctor about this. He grabbed some ice when Marc was in the bathroom, and got a little bit of temporary relief. 

The next morning, he was barely staying awake. He drove home, almost crashing a few times because he was struggling to keep his eyes open. He bought himself a coffee at Starbucks, and sipping it began to help him a little bit. He was tempted to just go to sleep and deal with the nightmares, but then he actually thought about the night before. It was completely miserable. He would just have to not sleep, not a great solution, but the only one Kris had left.


	31. Having Freinds Makes Life Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another one!!!

Kris hadn't slept very much in weeks. Once in awhile he would fall asleep for a few minutes before making himself wake up. He was forced to drink coffee so he didn't pass out from exhaustion on the ice. He was leaning against the boards in between drills, and he shut his eyes for a few seconds. Training camp was rough, and he was absolutely exhausted. Kris's eyes jolted open when his ass hit the ice. He had fallen asleep momentarily, and then he fell. His face grew warm and red as everybody laughed at him. Kris turned over and stood back up, murmuring sorry to Dan as he skated by. The new coach seemed nice, but Kris barely knew him. He had only come in half way through last season. The bench was lonely, but they had a little time before they were going to do anymore drills. Kris's head hurt, and he was so miserable at this point, trapped in his fear. 

Marc skated up to the bench, "Tanger, what's going on with you man?" The goalie asked. 

"Sleep trouble," he replied softly, "Haven't had a good night of rest in weeks," 

Marc came in the bench and sat next to him, "Get some medicine or something, you need sleep, and it looks like it's pretty bad at this point for you," 

Kris shrugged, "Guess I could go down to the trainers later," 

Sid came over, and Kris bit his lip. The captain probably didn't appreciate Kris falling down because he was half asleep. "Having a sleep problem Tanger?" Sid asked. Kris just nodded. "Get some help, you look half dead," Kris nodded again. 

He knew it was pretty obvious when Jordy approached him in the locker room, "Kris? What's wrong with you, you look like you haven't slept in days," 

"More like weeks," he muttered. 

Jordy's eyes grew wide, "Get some medicine or something man, the season is coming up soon," 

Kris sighed and nodded before making his way down to the training office. Chris Stewart was in there kneeling down, wrapping some gauze around Max Talbot's ankle. "Hey Kris, what can I do for you man?" The trainer asked, not even looking up. 

"I'm having a sleep problem," Kris answered softly. 

Chris took one look up, and then he stood up, "Okay, why don't you take a seat, I'll finish up with Talbo and then I'll be over," 

"Okay," Kris said with an exhausted sigh. He sat in the chair, falling half asleep as soon as his butt hit the seat. He was practically drooling on the wall when Chris came over to talk to him. 

"Tanger?" The trainer said softly. 

Kris's eyes flew open, "Sorry about that," he said softly. 

"No problem, now what's going on," Chris said with a small smile. 

"Just having a lot of issues sleeping for the past few weeks," Kris replied, trying to stay vague. 

"Ok, let me get Dr. Vyas, and we'll see what his recommendation is," The trainer said, leaving Kris alone again. He could hear the other man get on the phone and call for Dr. Vyas. It wasn't too long before the doctor came down and they talked for awhile. He was prescribed Ambien. 

Sleeping that night was great. He had no nightmares, and he was knocked out for close to ten hours. He woke up, still exhausted, but feeling much better than before. Kris had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He was positive this wouldn't be the last he would see of his Dad, and if that was the case, he had some serious problems on his hands. Another run in like this might be detrimental to his mental condition, it was shaky as it was and another blow might just push him off the edge into insane.   
…….…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Kris was playing the best he had ever played before. Everyday was fun and he loved going to the rink to see Marc. The dumb ass goalie was often the highlight of his day, helping him to forget the things he didn't want to remember. Hanging out with Marc was what Kris was currently doing. They were sitting in Marc's living room, watching some shitty hallmark movie, laughing about Sid's face the other day when Marc had filled the captain's glove with shaving cream. "What did he even say to you?" Kris asked, still laughing his head off, 

Marc tried to put on a straight face and look as serious as Sidney Crosby, but he cracked up a little bit. The goalie cleared his throat and lowered his voice, overly enunciating his English, "I'm not mad Marc, I'm just disappointed," he dead panned, and Kris actually fell off the couch in hysterics. 

"What the actual fuck," he said, wiping tears from his eyes, "Who is he? The team mom?" Kris asked with a smirk. 

"We should make him a jersey," Marc replied, and evil grin on his face. 

Kris just laughed again, and then he headed back to the kitchen to grab another beer. "Hey Marc, you want another one while I'm out here?" He called into the other room. 

"Yeah sure. You wanna make me a sandwich?" Marc called hopefully, 

Kris let out a long-suffering sigh at the lazy man, "Sure whatever, I'll clean the house while I'm at it," he grumbled, pulling bread and lunch meat out of the fridge. He was hungry himself now that he thought about food. Kris cut up a tomato and pulled some lettuce out of one of the many prepackaged bags of food Marc had sitting in the fridge. He assembled Marc a turkey, cheddar, lettuce, and tomato sandwich on whole wheat, and he threw a ham, swiss, lettuce, and tomato on whole wheat for himself. He carried the two plates out to the living room, the beers tucked under his arms. Marc grabbed the plate and a beer and took a bite, 

"What, no mayo?" He asked, looking up at Kris. 

The defenseman rolled his eyes, "You need to follow the nutritionist's instructions sometimes, and I sure as hell know you won't without me making you," Kris said with a laugh.

Marc grinned and laughed back, "Fair enough,"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't noticed, I hate coming up with names for chapters


	32. Getting Wasted Numbs the Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Woo! Getting closer and closer to the end!

Going out after games with the guys was very possibly Kris's least favorite, favorite thing to do. He hated it, yet he relished in the chance to drink. The guy's liked to give him a hard time, but it was just too many people with too many questions for Kris, the noise, the jokes. He preferred sitting in a corner booth with Sid, Jordy, Geno, Flower, and maybe a few other guys. Kris loved all of his teammates, but in this environment, he liked the guys he was closest to, the people he trusted the most. 

"Hello fuckers! The party has arrived," Marc announced as he set down a huge assortment of shots and little colored tubie things. 

"Not like Russian Vodka, too weak," Geno grumbled after taking a few shots, "Too long to get drunk," 

Kris laughed and picked up a few for himself. He took a couple of regular shots and then tried one of the colored things. He made a little face, and Marc started snickering across from him. Sid elbowed the goalie in the ribs. "That a little strong for you Tanger?" Marc eventually asked, a stupid smile on his face. 

Kris glared, "Shut up," he said, grabbing another one. He made sure not to make a face that time, but he regretted the decision when Marc gave him an evil smile. The goalie snatched the colored tube that Sid had just grabbed, earning him an indignant squawk from the Captain. He grabbed the little holder, and put it back in, handing the 13 tubes the were left to the the defenseman. Kris narrowed his eyes at the unspoken challenge. He picked them up two at a time, throwing them back. He grimaced a little, they burned his throat some. He finally finished, feeling a lot more hazy and wobbly than earlier. He had a nice buzz though. Marc, being the fucking asshole that he always was, brought Kris another tray. The defenseman struggled through the second tray, throat burning when he was done. He stood up to go to the bathroom, and then one step later he was on his ass on the floor. Marc died, coming over to pick the defenseman up with Sid. They each grabbed under Kris's arms, and guided him to the men's room. After he finished, they helped him out to the booth again. Marc debated shipping him home, but he was a good teammate so he called a cab, bought some beers to go, and got Kris in and buckled. The cab ride back to Kris's apartment was long, but Marc sat there, half listening to his extremely drunk friend's rambles. 

 

He froze when he heard the soft words come out of Kris's mouth, "Why do you hang out with me Marc? I mean really, no one likes me that much," 

"Kris what are you talking about? Everyone likes you dumbass," Marc replied. Kris got off subject quickly, but the comment disturbed the goalie. Why was Kris so unsure about himself? He made sure Kris got into bed before he headed home.

 

…….…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

By the end of the season, Kris had a ton of points, and on the ice he looked to be playing with confidence. In the locker room was a bit of a different story. Marc was the only one who really noticed that Kris was being weird. The defenseman acted the complete opposite of a guy who had fifty points on the season. He seemed distant and uncomfortable as well as completely not confident. He was quiet during practice, only cracking jokes sometimes, and he seemed to be gripping his stick kind of tight during the drills. Games were different. Kris was a whole separate person on the ice during games. He looked solid, confident, fluid, relaxed, and he smiled all the time. The whole situation was weird, and Marc really wanted to know what was going on with the defenseman. 

Kris sat on his bed in their hotel room, staring at the tv, a beer in his hand. Marc grabbed the can before Kris opened it. "Game tomorrow," he reminded Kris, "Nutritionist should have your head if you drank this," Kris nodded a little, staring at the the wall, and biting his lip. Marc sighed and stopped trying to pry a response from the defenseman. Kris had been acting extra weird for a few days. Marc had showed up at his house earlier in the week, and right as he was about to knock on the door, there was a series of huge crashes from inside. Marc had stood there, frozen for a second before he knocked on the door. Kris had been out of breath when he answered the door, a glazed look in his eyes, and blood pouring from his nose and a gash near his jaw. Marc had tried to get him to go to the hospital, but Kris stubbornly refused, holding a towel up to the gash, and wiping his nose with a tissue every now and then. He had cleaned himself up, trying to convince Marc that he had fallen into something, but Marc was pretty sure that was absolute shit. He had no idea what had actually happened, but Kris had definitely been lying about something. 

Marc wasn't so sure about what to do with Kris, but something had to be done.


	33. A Little Support Never Hurts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Comments are strongly encouraged!!!!!

The playoffs were a let down, and the drinking afterwards took the sting away for a little while. Kris sat alone in the corner of the bar, nursing a glass of whiskey. His whole body ached from the playoffs. Going home was really not something he wanted to do tonight. He needed to leave sometime soon though. He was so tired, so he finished his glass and phoned in a taxi. When he got home, he dug around in his pocket for his keys, and unlocked the door. It was pitch black in the kitchen, and when he walked into the living room after slipping off his shoes, he was not surprised at all. 

On his couch, a beer in his hand, glaring at Kris was his dad. Kris forced himself not to shake or visibly show fear. He stepped a little closer, and before he knew it, he was pinned against the wall, hot breath on his face. Kris began to be a little short of breath. He really didn't want this again. He wouldn't give the man the pleasure of seeing him cry, he wouldn't let himself. There were tears stinging his eyes, but he wouldn't give in and let them fall. A punch to his face, and he spit some blood out of his mouth. Kicks, fists, knees, hands cutting off his oxygen supply to the point where he almost passed out. It was brutal and Kris had to drag himself to the couch afterwards. He was in some serious pain, laying on his couch, trying to not throw up. His still tender ribs that had never really fully healed were aggravated once again, and he was seeing spots. This was going to be a long offseason. 

…….…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Kris was in bed at his apartment, making out with Catherine. She had his shirt half off, hands roaming around his chest and abs. His lips moved against hers, hot and wet, just enough tongue involved. Her hand was lightly scratching at the skin on his pec, and then she moved down, and he stiffened a little, pulling away with a hiss from the sharp pain. Her hand had just felt along his ribs. They were still black and purple and so, so tender. She looked concerned, "Kris, what's wrong?" She asked softly,

"Nothing to worry about," he lied breathlessly, "Just a bruise from hockey," he added, pulling her back in for more. She let him, and then her lips were on his once more and he could feel himself hardening in his jeans. He began to work her blouse up and off, and she snaked her hands under his shirt once more. Kris shifted to press kisses up her neck, and suddenly all of her weight was on his left side, and he almost fucking screamed from the pain. He was breathing raggedly as he pulled away. Catherine pulled his shirt up and off of him, looking worriedly at his ribs. She gasped, 

"Kris! What happened? There is no way you got that during a hockey game," she asked, her voice laced heavily with worry. 

"I don't want to talk about it," he replied, trying to pull her back down so they could kiss again. 

"Well I do," Catherine said, pulling away from him a little bit. 

"I really don't want to talk about it," he insisted, sitting up a little bit. 

She tenderly nudged his chin up so he would look her in the eyes, stroking his jaw line with her thumb. "Kris," she said softly, "I want to help you if something is bothering you. Please tell me," 

Kris sat there, staring at the wall. He gulped a little bit, "I, I've been-" he stopped, struggling to admit what was going on. "Ever since I was little, my Dad has abused me," he finally whispered, tears threatening to fall. "I understand if you want to go, and if you don't want to do this again," he eventually added, 

"Oh Kris," she said, her voice breaking, "Kris, honey, I don't want to leave. You need to see a doctor," 

"No I don't okay! I don't need to go see a doctor because then there will be questions and media, and too much fucking PR," he replied sharply, 

"Kris, you probably broke over half the ribs in this side," she said pleading with him, "You need to see someone," 

Kris stood up, his frustration boiling over. He grabbed the glass he had left on his night stand and hurled it at the wall. The sound of shattering glass was satisfying, but he was still angry. He clenched his hands, trying to get a grip on his emotions. He sunk down to his knees, his own hands pulling at strands of his hair. "Why?" He sobbed, finally just breaking down into tears, "Why does he hate me? What did I ever do?" He asked no one in particular. Her arms wrapped around his neck, comforting him. Kris closed his eyes, sobs wracking his body. Each movement sent a jolt of pain through him. Falling apart, tears streaming down his face, all Kris could do was hold on to Catherine and let it all out.


	34. When Your Nerves Get the Best of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm hoping everyone is liking these, and please don't hesitate to tell me if you don't I appreciate constructive criticism as well as compliments. :)

Kris was sitting in the locker room, all alone. Everyone else was warming up, but tonight Kris was supposed to do something he hadn't done before. He was so nervous, bent over puking out his guts into a trash can. He had to defend Alex Ovechkin tonight. That was the assignment Dan had given him. All night, he would be the one out there against the Russian super star. Kris wished Dan would just see there was someone better, there was someone else that could do the job, someone who was good, Brooksy, Gonch, hell, even Sid might do better. Why him, why did he have to be the one. 

He wiped his face off, and woozily made his way out of the tunnel. Sid gave him a whack on the ass with his stick, "Fuck, Kris, you okay?" The captain asked.

"Just got a little sick," Kris replied simply. 

"Tanger!" Flower screamed from across the ice, "Get your ass over here," Kris skated over to his goofy friend. 

"What Marc?" He asked tiredly. 

"You really get sick in the locker room?" The goalie asked with a laugh. Kris's face grew red and warm. He didn't answer. "Jordy said he saw you in there," Marc added, 

"Oh fuck off," Kris eventually said. 

"Calm down. You'll do fine," Marc reassured. Kris took a deep breath, he wasn't so sure Marc was right. 

When the night was all said and done, Kris was pretty pleased with it. He had played well, not perfect, but it was good. When Marc skated over to him at the end, it meant the world to him, "See, I fucking told you Kris, you killed them," he whispered, he skated away then, but not before slapping Kris's ass and grinning at the defenseman.   
…….…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Despite the frequent "visits" from his dad, Kris was doing pretty well on the ice. His season was good, Marc was his usual self. Catherine and him had tried being "a couple", but Kris didn't really think it was for him. He liked Catherine, but he wasn't really interested in a relationship. They had ended the official try at being together, but they still hooked up sometimes. Just because they weren't perfect as a couple didn't me they couldn't keep heading in the direction they were going before this year. 

Kris kept doing well, but his confidence went down, and down, and down. Not just on the ice, but off of it as well. He was quieter than ever in the locker room. Marc practically dragged him to the bar and out of the hotel room they shared. Kris was never more thankful for the goalie. Marc was there when Kris needed him, always over at the defenseman's apartment, carpooling to the rink, on the ice saving Kris's mistakes. 

Kris had also been thinking of Luc again. His best friend's memory just made his heart ache with a dull pain that didn't go away for hours. Beer softened it. He grew paler and paler everyday, and he was pretty sure his teammates might have an intervention for him if he didn't start looking better. Kris had lost five pounds in the last two weeks from not eating, not to mention the five he had already lost. His eyes looked tired, cuts marring his skin everywhere. He felt sluggish everyday when he would get out of bed, and food physically made him sick. He spent most nights either at Catherine's or over at Marc's playing video games all night. Sleeping was no safe haven, he was just haunted by the monsters from the past. His demons never had left, they had just given him a hiatus and now they were back with vengeance. Another early exit from the playoffs at the end of the year wasn't any help to him. That offseason, he went up to Shippigan and pretended he was okay for a few weeks and then he stopped in Montréal before heading back to Pittsburgh to wallow in his own misery.


	35. Practice Makes Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm running out of things to say haha! Enjoy!

Kris didn't understand why he couldn't just force himself to say no, to fight back. He skated around the ice once more, nose dripping blood onto his jersey as well as all over the ice. His eyes was swelling up, and he could barely breathe. "Another lap!" His dad screamed at him, and Kris hunched over a little and pushed himself harder. Then he skated back over, gripping his stick tightly. "Shoot," Kris cradled the puck and skated around a pylon. His arms and legs ached, his whole body felt like it was going to collapse from a combination of no sleep, no food, and too much exercise. He weakly tried to fire the puck in the net, but he missed. He reeled back, a hand connecting with his face. "Ten more laps boy," his dad spat. Kris dragged himself up off of the ice and followed directions. 

His breathing was ragged, his jaw smarting, and his head clouded with a foggy dizziness. His legs actually gave out during the seventh lap, leaving him in a heap on the ground, barely conscious. The darkness began to overtake him as he felt himself being dragged across the cold hard ice. He fought to keep his eyes open, sleep just brought more and more pain, but he couldn't stave it off. 

 

When Kris woke up, he was in bed and his phone was ringing and ringing. He got out of bed, and grabbed his iPhone from his nightstand. He went to the bathroom and then froze. There was someone in the house. He closed the bathroom door, unlocking his phone. 10 missed messages, 7 missed calls, 4 voicemails. The defenseman opened some of the messages, 

Kris, it's Marc, you wanna hang out? -Marc

Hey Tanger, you okay? Flower said you weren't answering- Sid

Kris, fuck you, return my calls- Marc

Stop being a prick and answer!- Marc

Kris!- Marc

Are you mad at me? Fucking answer- Marc

Kris sighed and closed his phone again, slowly making his way out to the kitchen. There was Catherine, cooking a big pan of eggs at the stove. "Kris!" She said, sounding relieved. "You finally woke up," 

"How long was I asleep?" He asked, drowsily, plopping down ungracefully into a chair at his island. 

Catherine brought him a big plate of eggs and whole wheat toast. A glass of orange juice and his anxiety pills were also placed in front of him. He stared at the pill, it had been a while since he had taken them. "A couple days," she said, trying to sound nonchalant. Kris stopped mid bite. 

"Wait," he murmured, "How the fuck did I even get here?" He felt up on his face, trying to see if he still had a shiner or a broken nose. Judging from the extremely sharp pain from his eye, he hadn't been dreaming. 

"Kris calm down," she said softly, "You didn't show up for our date or whatever you want to call it, and you had told me you were going to the rink, so I went to look for you," 

Kris sighed heavily, and closed his eyes momentarily, "Wait," he murmured, "You, you called the team doctor didn't you," he asked, clenching his hands. 

"I'm sorry Kris, I didn't know what else to do," Catherine replied softly. 

"No, no, no, no," he muttered, standing up. He walked around the room a few times, trying to keep the horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach at bay. He clenched his hands harder, ignoring the pain of his fingernails digging into his palms. He suddenly stopped by the table that was next to his couch and swept everything off of it, including his lamp. He felt a sense of satisfaction as the ceramic shattered on the floor. He screamed, and turned punching the wall as hard as he could. His hand went right through the picture frame that was hanging on the wall, his knuckles exploding with pain. When he pulled his hand out, there were red streaks down his arm and little pieces of glass sticking out of his knuckles. 

 

Kris shoved the table over, and he grabbed a bowl from the cabinet. He chucked it at the wall, and then fell back on the couch, his head in his hands. A soft hand on his back was soothing, "Kris, babe, it's okay," she whispered. 

"Fuck! No it's not," Kris muttered, on the brink of tears.


	36. Big Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy and Comment!

Kris ended up sitting out ten games at the beginning of the season, and then finally the training staff let him back in the lineup. He played well enough after that, it wasn't as good as the season before, but it was good enough to stay in the lineup. The playoffs were absolutely awful. Everyone was awful including Kris and Marc. Kris had started to eat regularly again. Often times it wasn't really enough, but he figured baby steps were okay. He slept once and a while, and he spent the majority of his time either at the gym or with Catherine or his teammates. 

They helped him get through the long nights, through the practice sessions that his Dad would force him through. Suzanne called him everyday, and she was worried about him. The way he would talk, quiet and closed off was alarming to her, and she knew him better than anyone. 

…….…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Kris was sitting in his living room, having a beer with Marc and laughing. They were playing video games with Sid, Geno, Paulie, and Nealer. Marc was one his phone ordering lunch in, and Kris was beating Sid and Geno at Call of Duty. The defenseman laughed and chirped Sid relentlessly. Having his teammates over helped him forget about his awful life for a little while. Plus it gave him an excuse to drink. Kris headed out to the kitchen to get another beer, and his phone buzzed. He ignored it, whoever it was, he would get back to them later. A few minutes later it started ringing and he silenced it. Kris continued to play the game and joke around with Marc when there was a knock on his door. "Fuck!" Kris exclaimed as Geno shot him in the head, "Marc, fucking answer the door would you. Probably the delivery man," he said, getting ready to play again. Marc left the room for a few minutes, and then poked his head back into the room, 

"Kris," he said, "Not the delivery man, it's for you," Kris stood up, and he handed Marc his controller on his way to the door. He took a sip of his beer, and made his way through the hall to his door. It was partially open, and he walked up, opening it the full way. Catherine stood there, waiting patiently for him. 

"Oh hey Cath," he said softly with a grin, coming out the door and shutting it behind him, "What's up?" Kris asked, taking another sip,

"I have something we need to talk about Kris," Catherine said, tiredly, "Can we sit down?" She asked. Kris nodded and opened the door, leading her back to his room, and then sat down on the bed, door closed. "Okay," she said softly, "I really need you to just listen for a few minutes," Kris nodded, a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, did she not want to be friends anymore, didn't she still like him? "So I haven't been feeling well lately, and I went to the doctor last week," she started nervously, "He let me know that he thinks I'm pregnant, and Kris, it is definitely yours," she continued. Kris's head was exploding with thoughts, and he felt like he was going to throw up. How could he be responsible for another human being if he could barely make it himself? "I understand that you are a professional athlete and that you may not want this out for PR purposes and I don't want to hurt that. I just need you to promise you'll at the very least help me out financially. I'm not expecting anything more from you, no relationship just for the sake of the child, I just need some help," she finished and looked at him expectantly, picking at a thread in his sheets.

"I," he stopped, and took a breath, "Sorry, this is just a lot to process," Kris murmured, "I can be there financially, and I can be there for you during the pregnancy. I just can't be a part of this baby's life Catherine, not as it's dad, I am just not fucking emotionally equipped. I can't trust myself to take care of it and give it the home it needs and deserves," he added tearfully. How could he do this, he couldn't let himself near an innocent child, he would just mess up. He would not be good for it. Kris was positive he would be an awful parent, "You have to understand my position," he said softly,

"Kris, I get it, I know what you've been through, but I want you to know that I think you would be a great dad," she said softly, "You could do it Kris," 

"No I couldn't," he replied with a snort, "I would just fucking ruin this kid's life," the defenseman rubbed his face tiredly. "Look, call me if you need anything, and later we can talk about how much money I'll give you to help out. Please don't be offended, but I'm sure my agent would kill me if I didn't have you get a paternity test after it's born," Kris added. 

"Yeah, no problem Kris," Catherine replied softly. Kris bit his lip and showed her the way out. He grabbed another beer from the fridge, finishing it quickly.

"Tanger!" One of his teammates screamed from the living room. He took a deep breath, it was time to act normal again.


	37. Concussions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> running out of chapter titles and things to say! Oh no lol haha!

Kris was at practice, distractedly going through the drills. He was staring at his skates on the way to the bench. He could seen himself teaching a little boy or girl to skate, he could see himself getting up in the morning and taking care of them. Kris also could see himself having a panic attack while he was holding them, or if they just made his delicate temper explode, what would happen? Could he control himself? Kris shook his head slightly, he had made the right decision. This baby would be better off without him, this baby would have a good life far away from where Kris could mess it up. Kris was pulled out his thoughts when a stick caught him around the ankles and he went face first into the ice. He laid there for a second, his head was pounding after that fall and he felt a little dazed. "Kris?" He heard through the haze, "Tanger?" It sounded like Sid. 

"What?" He asked softly. 

"Tanger, are you alright?" Sid said worry laced through his voice. Kris groaned a little, and he sat up slowly. His head hurt so bad, but he wouldn't sit out, he couldn't. Kris needed to work through this. He got up, taking Sid's hand to help him to his feet. 

"Hmm?" Kris asked, still a little hazy. 

"I said, I'm sorry I tripped you," Jordy said, coming up behind Kris, "It was an accident," Kris nodded accepting the apology. Practice was really hazy for the last thirty minutes. He quietly made his way to the locker room and went into the bathroom to throw up. Marc came in after him to splash his face with some water. 

"Kris?" Marc said softly, "Are you sure you're okay?" 

"I'm fine," Kris snapped. 

"I think you might need to see the trainer man," Marc whispered. 

"Marc, just mind your own business," Kris replied, wiping his face with a paper towel. He walked out and got dressed quickly, checking his phone. He pulled everything together as fast as he could. Catherine needed something. He dragged it all out to his car, and drove to the grocery store to pick up the things Catherine needed. He stopped at Starbucks to get her the coffee she wanted, and he rushed inside of the house, arms full of food and drinks. She was laying down in the living room, and he rushed in, out of breath, and still slightly out of it. "Here, I got it," he said, holding things out for her. She took what she wanted and he set the rest down on the counter, rushing to get her a blanket and a pillow. 

"Kris calm down, I'm okay," Catherine said, fending off his attempts to cover her legs with a blanket. He looked a little hurt, "And go take a shower, you smell gross," she complained, not really paying attention to him. 

"Sorry," he snapped, "I rushed from the rink to get you food," Kris stalked off to the bathroom to take a shower. He had some extra clothes with him, so he changed into those. Kris's head was still pounding. He needed to lay down. When the defenseman made it out of the shower, he dried off and slipped on his shorts and tee shirt. "Catherine?" He called softly.

"What Kris?" She said, sounding happier than earlier. 

"Is it okay if I go take a nap in the guest room? You can come get me if you need anything," he asked, trying to be considerate and helpful. Kris really needed to close his eyes. 

"Yeah go ahead," Catherine called back. 

Kris grabbed a beer out of the fridge and his pain medicine, anxiety pills, and Ambien. He took one Advil pill and then an Ambien with some beer. Kris set the can down on the night stand with the pill bottles and shut his eyes, letting himself drift off.


	38. I Have No Name For This Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing… haha maybe it's the long week that I've had. Enjoy and comment!

Bzzzzzz Bzzzzzzzz Bzzzzzzz

The buzzing shook the night stand, filling Kris's ears and his consciousness. It ripped him from his dreams, and he blinked the sleep out of his eyes. He grimaced and shut his eyes at the bright light that was shining right in his face. Pain exploded in his head, causing him to hide his face. He groped around for his phone, and exhaustedly hit the accept button, 

"Hello?" Kris asked, hoarsely. 

"Kris, what the fuck! Where were you earlier?" Marc asked. Kris was confused, he had just been asleep, there was nothing he had for the rest of the day. 

"Marc, what are you talking about?" Kris asked, drowsily, his words slightly slurred. 

"Kris, are you hung over? Coach is going to kill you. You can't just miss practice," the goalie said. 

"What the fuck Marc! I'm not fucking hungover you asshole. I don't feel well, I must have slept through my alarm. Tell coach I'm under the weather and I just over slept. I'll come and see him in a little bit," Kris replied, trying to stand up. His wobbled a little, but he managed to stumble out of the room and into the bathroom. Kris splashed his face with water, and then put Marc on speaker, 

"Alright, I'll go tell him," Marc replied, "He was pretty pissed off," Kris kneeled down and threw up in the toilet. It felt awful, and fuck the fact that Marc was still on the phone. "Kris?" Marc asked tentatively. 

"What?" Kris replied, still leaning over the toilet. 

"Coach says it's fine, just come and talk to him later when you can," Marc said. 

"Okay, thanks Marc," the defenseman softly replied. Kris very carefully drove home, trying to not pass out in his car. He closed all of the curtains in his apartment and turned all the lights down. Kris curled up in his bed and shut his eyes, trying to calm the pounding in his head. There was ringing in his ears, and he just wanted to sleep more. He dug his phone out of the pocket of his pants that he had just thrown on the floor. Kris texted Dan that he would come see him the next day because he was feeling awful. After that, Kris shut his eyes, and went to sleep. 

…….…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Kris was sluggish at practice. Thankfully Dan had been okay with Kris missing the other day. His skates felt like they were encased in cement as he tried to do the drills. His head felt like it was exploding. Kris got the puck passed back to him, and he tried to cradle it, but instead he just lost it to Geno who was forechecking. He smacked his stick off the ice when Geno took it in and scored. Marc got up and skated over to Kris, "Are you sure you're fine?" The goalie hissed worriedly. 

"Yes, I'm sure," Kris snapped, spraying his face with some water. He pulled his helmet off and fixed his hair, and then leaned against the bench, exhausted. Coach made him sit down for a little bit, and then finally practice was over. The defenseman slowly got changed, and then he headed home. He needed a major nap, and the to go check on Catherine. When he got to his apartment, he recognized a car in the lot and swore under his breath. When he got up to his apartment, sure enough, there was his Dad. Kris gulped, already feeling awful. His head was jarred as he was socked in the jaw, knocking him over. Kris laid there, dazed, eyes glazed over a little bit. He was barely able to throw his hands up to protect his face from the ensuing punches. All of the sudden, Kris was angry, he was mad, this wasn't something he should just let happen. He swung a little bit, but the concussion he had made him completely uncoordinated. Kris missed completely, and got a nasty blow right to the face once more. He tried to just survive the onslaught, and then laid on the ground, bloody and pretty sure his head was not going to heal properly from this. Eventually he just passed out on the floor in the middle of his living room. 

…….…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

Kris ended up sitting out a little while anyways when he got bowled over during the next game, and hit his head for the third time. The team doctors made him sit five games, and his head was much better. Catherine had calmed down a little bit, that or Kris was just getting more used to these crazy hormones she was getting. He brought her food if she texted him, and he checked on her every few days. Kris really wanted to be there for her, but at the same time, he wanted to detach himself from the situation. It was hard to balance both wants. He was starting to play much better after he returned from his injury. Kris was tearing it up on the ice, and he was leading defenseman in points. 

The team had been doing really well in general, and Marc and Kris hung out most days after practice. Kris's anxiety had calmed down some, and he had been sleeping much better than he had in a long time.


	39. When You Need Some Advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Only a few chapters left! I'm so excited!

Kris sat in Marc's living room, laughing hysterically. The goalie had turned on some fucking shitty yet hilarious comedy. They were in the middle of eating lunch when Kris's phone went off. He answered quickly, "Hello?" 

"Kris," It was Catherine's voice, and she sounded panicked, "I need some help," she added, her breathing slightly labored. 

"Okay, t-take a deep breath," Kris replied, not sounding as reassuring as he had hoped. 

"Kris, come fast, please," Catherine pleaded. 

"I'll be there, one second," he said softly, gathering his things and muttering an excuse to the goalie. He finished eating on his way to Catherine's and when he got there, he quickly went in side. "Catherine?" He called questioningly. 

"Kris," she called back, voice sounding strained. 

"I'm coming," he replied, "Just stay calm," Kris searched around for her until he finally found her, slightly hunched over in the bedroom. She was trying to come out and greet him. Kris's eyes grew wide, and he felt a little sick at the sight of blood. He knew right away that he needed to get her to the doctor's, "Okay, he said softly, murmuring into her hair, "We're going to get you to the doctor's, it's all going to be alright," he reassured. 

"K-Kris, I think, I think I'm in labor," she replied. She pointed out the baby bag that she had packed and Kris grabbed it, and threw it over his shoulder, getting her out to the car. Once they made it to the hospital, he was stuck in the waiting room, all alone and nervous. Kris got a coffee from the hospital cafeteria, and sat in a chair, sipping it. He texted Marc for a while about random things, trying to keep his mind off the fact that his life could be drastically different after today. Kris had been battling with himself internally about his decision. He wanted to know this baby, he wanted to step up and help Catherine, and most of all, he wanted to give this kid what he had never had: a dad who cared about him, who loved him. Kris desperately wanted that, but there was one problem. Kris couldn't trust himself, he had no way of knowing he wouldn't mess this kid up as much as he had been messed up. Kris could not guarantee he would be a good father, and that alone was enough to keep him away. 

 

When he was called into the room, Kris nervously made his way down the hallway, following the nurse. Inside the room, Catherine was exhaustedly resting, her eyes closed, and her hair damp with sweat. Kris quietly entered the room, and turned towards the nurse. She had a little bundle in her arms, and slowly walked over to him. "Congratulations," she murmured. Kris held his breath as she shifted the baby into his arms. She adjusted the way he was holding the baby, showing him how to support the head. Kris stood rigidly, extremely uncomfortable, what if he broke him? What if he dropped his own son? Kris smiled at the little baby boy, and then handed him back to the nurse. Kris pulled a chair over and sat by Catherine's bed after they took the baby out of the room. He didn't even know the kid's name, and he was majorly tempted to change his mind on his decision. He fought with himself internally for a while, reminding himself why he came to the decision he had in the first place. Eventually Kris just fell asleep, exhausted from the stress he was under. 

…….…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Kris helped Catherine get home, and he stayed over until her Mom could come up the next day. Kris needed some time to himself. He distractedly participated in practice before packing up his stuff as fast as he could. Kris had a few days before there was another game, so he packed a bag, and bought a plane ticket. He flew up to Canada. Kris paid for a hotel room and ate out before heading to bed. The next day, he got up around tenish and went to the grocery store to pick up some food and flowers. He picked out a nice bouquet of blue flowers, and after dropping the food off back at his room, Kris drove to the cemetery. He slowly made his way over to the grave of his best friend, his brother. Kris sunk down to his knees in front of it, grabbing some of the sandy dirt and letting it fall through his fingers. "Luc," he murmured, "I need your help," Kris had tears falling already, "I miss you so much Luc, everyday, I remember you, I remember you infectious smile, your laugh, everything you did for me," Kris was silent for a few minutes, trying to compose himself. He was unable to console himself, so he continued through the tears and brokenness, "I have a son Luc," he finally said, "A beautiful, perfect little boy, but I can't take care of him, I don't trust myself," Kris added, "What do I do Luc? Should I be there? And my Dad, he beats me, still, but I can't make myself stand up to him. I need your help," 

 

Kris spent over an hour, sobbing and talking to Luc. He left the flowers on his best friends grave, along with a little Canucks flag he had picked up while he was out. Kris went to the hotel and took a nap before having some lunch. Kris took a shower, and then he sat in the tv room, a glass of whiskey, and some sleeping pills with him. Kris put on Happy Gilmore, and sipped his whiskey for a while, trying to wind down from the day. He was exhausted. When the movie was over, he took two Ambien pills and big gulp of whiskey to wash them down before heading into the bedroom of the hotel. He climbed in the fluffy white queen sized bed, and turned the lamp off from beside the bed. He drifted off quickly, finally resting peacefully after the long couple of weeks.


	40. Just Like Old Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm out of words again so just enjoy and please comment!

Kris forced himself to make it work. He would write Catherine a check every couple weeks, pick up groceries sometimes, and once and while they would hook up. He never saw Alex after those first few days. Kris wished he could, but there was no way he would put himself or Alex in that situation. Lately, he had been playing out of his mind. Kris racked up points, play well defensively, and overall was just playing some great hockey. His Dad hadn't been around in a little while, and Kris was really the happiest he had been in a long time. 

Smarting off to Marc was absolutely hilarious, especially when the goalie was being a complete asshole. They had a nice rhythm going, a good routine that consisted of hanging out almost every other day. Kris loved having someone there, it wasn't the same as Luc, but sometimes, it got pretty damn close. Like last week when Marc had driven them to the rink and they had messed around on the ice together for hours, skating, carefree. Then they had gone out to eat before settling a Kris's to play video games. It was the best thing Kris had done in a long, long time, and he was incredibly glad to have done it. Any distraction form his pitiful life was a great blessing.

Kris had a nasty gash on his leg from when his Dad had waited for him at the rink, watching practice, and then he came on to the ice. Kris had tried to protect himself when he was flung into the boards, but the bench door hadn't been properly locked and he went right through it, crashing into the side of the bench and whacking his head off of the glass. He sat there dazed for a few minutes before his vision cleared and he saw he was all alone, leg bleeding through his sock, and he still felt a little dizzy, a dull pounding in his head. Kris was pretty sure this season was going to be a long one. 

 

…….…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

The door burst open and from where Kris was huddled on the floor protecting his face, he couldn't tell who it was. Mario had a furious look on his face as he pulled the man up off of his star defenseman and held him back. Mario could see blood on the floor, and Kris was unresponsive as he thrashed his legs a little in obvious pain. The older man looked over his shoulder, "Marc, Paulie get in here! Sid go and tell the trainers Kris needs help, Marc will get him there," The goalie burst through the door and stopped short. He gulped and immediately knelt down beside his best friend. 

"Kris, it's Marc, can you say something to me?" After a few seconds of silence, he looked up to Mario who was holding some dude that looked oddly familiar back with Paulie's help, 

"Get him to the trainers," Marc nodded, and managed to get Kris up off the floor. The defenseman was able to walk with the extra support, but he was still leaning heavily onto Marc. Kris was barely lucid, and about halfway to the trainer's, his feet started dragging a little, 

"It's okay Kris, c'mon, almost there." He dragged Kris another few feet, "Tanger, listen, I need you to tell me who that man was," Kris shook his head and mumbled a response, 

"Don't bother, s'not worth it, m'not worth it. Why d'you even care?" Marc stopped. He looked right at his friend, and felt tears begin to sting his eyes, 

"Kristopher Allen, I do not want to ever hear those words again, do you you hear me, You are worth it, you are so fucking worth it Kris," Kris shook his head one last time before slumping into Marc's shoulder and staining the white material red with the blood coming from his face. His feet dragged as Marc tried to carry the defenseman's dead weight all the way to the trainers. "Sid! Sid, I need help, damn it Kris, you weigh a fucking ton. Sid!" The captain hurried towards them and helped support Kris on the other side, and they got him successfully into the trainer's office. 

Sid helped him gently put Kris on the chair, and Chris was right there to assess the injuries. When he yelled for an ambulance to be called, Marc got this horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

 

Sitting in the waiting room with the rest of the team was pure hell, and worst of all whoever the fuck that bastard was that had beat Kris had disappeared during all the confusion. Marc was so nervous, he stared at his blood stained hands, and bit his lip trying to just be patient. When the doctor came out, he was the first one to his feet and they let Mario, him, and Sid back to see Kris. His friend looked pale, too pale. Kris looked horrible, stitches above his eyebrow, his lip split open, nose was bandaged. Marc stood next to Kris's bed, the defenseman's eyes still closed. Marc turned to the doctor, "Is he going to be okay?" He asked softly. 

"He is going to be just fine. We stitched him up, and once he heals a little, he can go home. We put him under because we had to reset his jaw and his nose, but he should recover fully," the doctor replied. Marc released a breath he didn't even know he was holding. "Someone is going to need to take care of him for a week or two at first. He will not be able to eat any hard foods, nothing crunchy, chewy, or tough for six weeks, and his wires won't come off for at least three weeks," Marc looked sadly at his friend,

"He will be under good care," Mario said with a sigh, and Sid of course was the one to ask the question that was hanging like a pink elephant in the room, 

"When will he be able to play hockey again?" 

The doctor thought for a few seconds before replying, "Maybe three weeks, we'll have to check him out, but I think it won't be too long. He will need to wear a jaw protector for the rest of the year. " Kris stirred a little, "He will be out of it when he wakes up, probably a bit panicky and erratic," 

Marc was expecting the erratic reaction, but not to the extent that Kris took it. He had blinked a few times, his eyes growing wide, and he started flailing. Marc and Sidney grabbed his arms, trying to calm him down, but he shook them off, and he tried to say something but it came out too garbled to understand. Sid knelt down beside the defenseman, "Kris," he said sharply, trying to get the defenseman's attention,"Calm down," 

Mario came over, and softly starting whispering comforting words in French. Kris started to calm down a little, his breathing calming down and his muscles relaxing slowly. He gripped Marc's wrist, holding on to it, like he was afraid he would leave, so the goaltender did the only thing he could think of. He started to whisper in French too. Kris' eyes got droopy after that and he started to fall asleep. The doctor came in a few seconds later, "Kris, I see your awake," he said. Kris gripped Marc's wrist much harder, his eyes flying wide open as the man came closer. 

"Don't touch," Kris whispered, clear enough to be understood this time, "Don't touch me," 

Marc closed his eyes exasperated, "He needs to check your injuries, dumb fuck, he has to touch you," he replied lightly, trying to get Kris to stop looking so scared. He started flailing again, inching away from everyone. Marc slipped into French, softly trying to coax Kris into relaxing, "Ne t'inquiète pas. Tout va bein. Relâches, tout va bien." The defenseman was curled in on himself as much as possible and he was literally, visibly shaking, 

"Kris," it was Sid who spoke up this time, "He's not going to hurt you, he's here to help," 

 

Mario took a deep breath, "Let's go out and tell the team, we'll give Kris a few minutes to calm down," he said tiredly. Marc started on follow, but Kris had a tight grip on his arm. 

"Hey I'll be right back," Marc said softly, "Kris, you need to let go," he added when the defenseman ignored him. He pulled his arm away, and looked over his shoulder at the still shaking 26 year old. He left grudgingly when Sid called his name. Marc was exhausted, he wanted food, a change of clothes and some sleep, but he didn't feel like leaving. The day had turned out so different than it had started. This morning he had been joking around with Sid when Kris came in kind of late. He seemed tired, but Marc had assumed it was from the game last night, it hadn't been very pretty, a 3-2 loss to the Flyers off of a dumb turn over. Kris had been on the ice, and he was caught up in the play and unable to get back. 

The plan was to go out to eat as a team. They all had on matching white v-necks as sort of a team thing, but then they were about to leave when Kris had disappeared claiming he had to go talk to the trainers. 15 minutes later they went to get help when they couldn't find him. Mario had been talking to Dan when Marc had spotted him and requested help with finding the defenseman. Marc was jolted out of his thoughts when Mario cleared his throat. Everyone perked up, wanting the news,

"Kris is going to be alright," was the first thing Mario said. Everyone sighed in relief, and Marc just stared at the blood stain in his t-shirt. "He has a broken jaw and a broken nose along with some stitches above his eye and a split lip. He has requested to not be touched multiple times, so unless you have permission please don't touch him. Kris looks to be a little stressed out and distressed after what happened so just take it easy with him. He's obviously a little freaked out,"


	41. No One Needs to Know But the Secret is Begging to Be Told

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> enjoy and comment!!

Marc scrubbed his face tiredly in the hospital bathroom, and when he was done, he went out to sit with Mario in Kris's room. The defenseman had finally just gone to sleep. He whispered in a soft voice, "Mario, who do you think that guy was?"

The older french man shook his head tiredly, "Je ne sais pas, it all happened so fast," he said slipping in and out of French fluently. 

Marc sighed and quietly played a game on his phone, peeking at Kris every few seconds. About a half hour later, Mario left to go pick them up some food, and every little bit, some team members would slowly trickle in and out of the room, checking in on Kris. Marc stayed in the room, he dozed off for a little while, but the chair was uncomfortable and Max was always loud when he visited. He had to shush him to make sure there wasn't another meltdown. Around midnight, Kris was starting to whimper, and roll around. Marc waited to see if he would quiet down, 

"Sorry," he muttered,"M'sorry I'm not good enough," Marc stood up and walked over to the side of the bed, 

"Shh, Kris, it's alright," he murmured. Kris just kept getting worse though, so Marc finally just shook him awake. Kris clung to Marc, and the goalie wasn't sure what to do, he was expecting no touching. He patted his best friend's back comfortingly, and then Mario came in with the food. He pulled the chair up closer to Kris's side, and offered him the milkshake Mario had brought originally for Marc, but the goalie wasn't that hungry anyways. Kris sipped it, coughing a little, and making Marc scared he was going to have to call a nurse in to cut the wires. Kris did not need to choke after everything else. He was alright though, and while he slowly drank, there was a knock on the half closed door. Jordy came in with a little smile, 

"You gave everyone a scare you little shit," he said fondly. Kris looked a him, a small smile pulling at his lips, 

"Hey Staalsy," he replied hoarsely, "M'glad to hear you were worried." Jordan smiled, and pulled a chair up. Marc threw some fries at him, and they talked for a while until Jordan had to leave. Kris was pretty quiet, shyly requesting something else to eat a little while later. Marc tried to leave to go get it, but Kris wanted him there, so Sid went to pick up a few more milkshakes and smoothies with vitamins in them. Kris seemed more or less his old self. More like himself from a few years ago, he'd been much more obnoxious recently, but now he was back to that shy, quiet defenseman Marc remembered from their Stanley Cup year, that scared rookie who had cried in the workout room after being torn apart by Michel.

 

After Sid returned and Kris was working on a peach mango smoothie, he suddenly froze, "Shit, shit, shit, shit, Marc what day is it?" Marc thought for a second, caught off guard by the question, 

"Friday, I think," he eventually said. 

"Oh fuck," Kris murmured, "Can I borrow your phone?" Marc handed over his iPhone and Kris immediately dialed a number. Marc watched curiously, "Catherine? It's Kris," Mario was asleep in the chair, and Marc left after Kris gave him a look. He lingered outside the door listening in on the conversation. "I know it's Alex's birthday, I have a cake at home in the fridge, and his present is waiting in my car, yes I know I was supposed to be there. Look, he came back again," Marc froze, there was so much hate in Kris's voice when he said he. The thing that worried Marc so much was the again. When had this happened before? "Yeah I'm in the hospital, my jaw got it the worst. I'm sorry I wasn't there. Yeah okay… bye," Marc waited a few minutes before returning, 

 

"So lover boy, can I have my phone back or do you need to call someone else?" Kris rolled his eyes, 

"I'm good," he said softly. There was a soft knock on the door, and the woman who came in looked so worried. 

"Kris," she exclaimed, a sigh of relief when she saw him awake. Kris's eyes lit up with joy, 

"Suzanne," he said softly, "I missed you," she hugged him so tightly, 

"I'm so glad you're okay," she murmured, "I thought I might lose you too, I was so worried," 

"I'm alright," he reassured her, and Marc offered her his seat. 

"I'm gonna head home, go change, all this blood on me is just a little bit gross. I'll be back in an hour or two," Kris nodded and tossed him his iPhone. Marc looked at him seriously, "Take care of yourself," 

Kris made a face at him, "You're only gonna be gone a little while, relax." Marc smiled before leaving. Mario was still asleep in the chair, and Suzanne took his hand. 

"Kris, honey, what happened? Do you need anything?" She asked softly, rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb. He stared at his sheets, pausing before speaking,

"Dad came back. He was so mad at me for who knows what, he just beat the crap out of me. I didn't want to hit him, I don't want to be like him," she squeezed his hand, 

"Honey, you can protect yourself," she replied. Kris shrugged. 

"It just, I feel like I'm like him when I hit people. When I get mad, it scares me," he finally admitted. "I hate him, and I want to be nothing like him," 

 

Suzanne stroked his arm, "It's alright Kris, you're fine okay? You are nothing like your father," Kris nodded softly, "Honey, get some rest," he complied silently once again, and she helped him get comfortable before turning the lights down.


	42. That's What Best Friends Are For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gahh! So many chapters to post! Enjoy and please comment!

Marc took a shower, and a nap for an hour before grabbing some takeout on the way to the hospital. He had slipped into some sweatpants and sneakers and a T-shirt. He made his way quietly to Kris's room, and stopped at the door, just peeking in. Mario was still asleep in the chair, and Suzanne was next to Kris's bed, holding his hand as he slept. She was talking softly to him and Marc did his best to hear what she said, "Kris," she said softly, "Luc would be so proud of you, he cared about you more than anyone. When you came to live with us, he loved it," Marc was curious. Why did Kris go and live with Luc? He had a family, Marc knew he had at least two sisters and his Mom, Dad, and Step-Dad. He had met Kris's Mom and Step-Dad before. He kept listening, "You're so strong and brave, and it breaks my heart that you don't trust yourself. You are nothing like your Dad." She went silent after that, leaving Marc with many questions. He waited a few more minutes and then casually entered the room. He woke Mario up, and moved him to a cot the hospital staff had brought in per his request. It would be better for the older man's back. Marc occupied the empty chair, handed Suzanne his key to Kris's apartment, and called her a cab. She left with the promise of returning in the morning. Marc drank some of the coffee he had brought while picking at the Chinese takeout. 

 

A few of the guys remained in the waiting room, including Sid, Geno, and Kuni. Marc had brought coffee for them too. Sid came in the room once in a while to check on everyone. No one seemed to be able to stay still, and everything still had an air of nervousness to it. Marc was irrationally worried about his friend. Kris was an adult, he could handle himself. Marc still found his thoughts wandering to Kris though, wondering if he would be okay. Marc had never seen the defenseman so vulnerable, he looked so confused and scared, and to be truthful it scared the shit out of Marc to see his best friend like that. He sat in that chair just watching Kris's peaceful face as he slept. Marc remembered other times, dark bruises, hidden by sweaters and scarves. He had always noticed. After the Cup win in '09, Kris had come over to hang out half way through the offseason. They had been in the backyard wrestling after some stupid video game, and Kris had absently pulled his shirt off. Marc could still see the ugly purple bruising on his chest and side vividly. It looked like someone had taken a baseball bat and beat him. He hadn't mentioned it, but now it was much more alarming. As was the time he came in really late to practice, his eye and face black and blue. 

Marc stayed in the room all night, awake, watching carefully and making sure Kris was comfortable. Sid sat in the room from one to three in the morning. They whispered quietly,   
"I just can't believe this happened to him," Sid said quietly. 

"I know," Marc replied softly, "He doesn't deserve this. How could I ever let this happen to him, Sid? How?" 

"Marc it isn't your fault, the real question is, why would anyone do this to Kris?" The captain asked. Marc wanted to tell him everything he had heard, but his head was still spinning at the fact that he could have maybe prevented this. He just shrugged in response. Sid put a hand on his shoulder, "You should get some sleep, Geno and Kuni are here, someone would be awake in here with Kris," 

Marc shook his head, "I want to be here for him," Marc dozed off at one point and Sid got a blanket and covered him. The night seemed to just drag on for the captain. 

…….…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Marc woke up late the next morning. Kris was up sipping something, Mario was awake, Sid was getting ready to head home, and Geno and Kuni were in the room. Marc was planning to swing by Kris's apartment today to get him some clothes. The defenseman looked silly in the hospital gown. His huge legs and biceps made it look really dumb. Plus it looked just plain uncomfortable. The goalie stretched once he stood up, feeling stiff from the long night sleeping in a chair. Geno left with him to go pick up Kris's clothes, Sid driving Mario home, and Kuni staying to watch Kris. The Russian followed him into the apartment, and Marc shuddered at the broken lamp and the bloody towels that he found among the clothes in the laundry basket. He quietly made his way back to Kris's room, Geno waiting on the couch. He opened the drawer and dug around for a pair of sweat pants and a sweater or something. He found a nice knit blue striped grey hoodie and Kris's favorite grey sweatpants. Then he grabbed the first pair of sneakers he saw. They were high top grey allstars. As a last thought, he grabbed Kris's favorite Penguins hat. Geno held the clothes while Marc drove to a Starbucks to get them coffee and then to the Waffle Shop to get food to go. He started to order for Kris, but then he remembered that the defenseman couldn't eat it. 

The hospital was quiet when they got back, a nurse was checking on Kris as Marc and Geno walked in. Marc handed Kuni the boxes of breakfast and coffee and took the clothes from Geno's arms. "Leave my food alone fuckers!" He called over his shoulder at the two forwards. They laughed and Marc waited patiently for the woman to stop asking annoying questions. Kris looked tired of answering them, and he sighed in relief when she left. Marc grinned and held up the clothes, "I brought you something to change in to," Kris smiled at that. 

"Thanks Marc, for everything," Marc was about to answer, but he was interrupted by the loud group of their teammates who showed up. They fawned over Kris and chirped him. Geno and Nealer were particularly rowdy now that they were together. Marc was surprised no one had kicked them out yet. Once everyone had left again, Marc finished eating breakfast and the doctor cleared Kris to leave. Marc gave him the clothes and he came out of the bathroom all changed. He looked exhausted so Marc helped him out to the car, collecting everything that Kris had on him the day before. He got in the car and Kris was pretty quiet, just requesting to go somewhere after swinging by his apartment. Suzanne had called, she was out grocery shopping, so it was empty when they unlocked the door. Kris grabbed a cake out of his fridge and handed Marc a present to hold. He gave Marc directions to an apartment complex, and the goalie trailed his friend up the stairs to the second floor and he hung back as Kris knocked on the door. A blonde women came out, looking surprised and she embraced Kris softly. Marc followed the defenseman through the door and took a seat on the couch. Kris sat next him and the woman sat across in a chair after getting Marc a glass of water and she handed Kris a Fiji bottle because anyone who knew him knew that was all he would drink. 

 

He handed her the neatly wrapped box and the cake. "These are for him," the woman nodded, and Kris smiled a little uncomfortably, "Oh, um Marc, this is Catherine, Catherine, this is Marc or Marc-André or Flower,"

"Most times I just get asshole," Marc dead panned, but then he cracked a smile. Kris laughed and Marc was pretty satisfied with himself for that. The blonde woman, Catherine, he corrected mentally, smiled at him. He grinned back with that infectious grin that made people like him. Kris seemed a little jumpy, and Marc turned to look at him, "Ok, what the fuck is wrong with you right now? Please sit still for five seconds," he said jokingly, and Kris glared, 

"Shut up asshole," he replied, but Marc just pointed at him with a satisfied grin, 

"See, I told you," Catherine laughed and Kris made face at him,

"Sometimes I don't know why I put up with you," he said softly. Deep down in side Kris wondered why Marc put up with him, why Marc wasted his time with him. Marc stuck out his tongue and Kris cracked a smiled. Marc smiled at Catherine on the way out, and he raised his eyebrows at Kris once they were in the car, "Shut up," Kris replied. "It isn't like that," 

Marc gave him a look and laughed, "You sure because I saw the way she looked at you,"   
Kris didn't reply for a while, 

"It's really not like that Marc," he said finally. Marc looked at him curiously, 

"How is it then?" He asked seriously, and Kris shrugged, 

"We just kinda fuck around sometimes," he said softly, and Marc stared at Kris, 

"Wait, really?" He said incredulously. "You don't seem like that kind of person," 

Kris snorted, "You have no idea," Marc was a little surprised. Kris was a person who was filled with such intensity and emotion. If he was upset or felt strongly about something, he could get quite animated. Marc couldn't imagine him in a no strings attached relationship. Fucking around with people that he picked up in bars was one thing, but actually having a functioning relationship that consisted of just sex with no feelings, that was what threw Marc for a loop. Kris got quiet then. 

"So what was the cake for?" Marc eventually asked on the way to Kris's apartment. 

"I don't really want to talk about that," the defenseman quietly replied. 

"Ok then I'll have to come up with my own conclusions," Marc replied, "Let's see, you are celebrating the first time you had sex, no wait, you gave her a cake for her husbands birthday. Wait, you gave her a cake to celebrate that she lost 200 pounds, but it doubled as a way to let her know you weren't into her anymore because you only like chunky girls," Kris grinned a little, after a few more minutes of silence Marc exclaimed in a proud voice, "Ok, I definitely have it, she's pregnant and wanted cake was my first thought, but I now have the answer. You are pregnant and you wanted to announce it with a cake!" Kris burst out laughing, 

"What the fuck Marc, that is actually impossible," the defenseman exclaimed. 

Marc grinned, "Wait," he said after a minute, "Have I met her before?" 

Kris nodded, "I think so. Maybe 2009ish, after we won the cup," 

"Oh yeah, I remember that. She is hot man, way to go Kris," he said, a huge smile. 

"Thanks Marc," Kris replied.


	43. Trying to Recover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the second to last chapter!! I am so close and I can't thank everyone who has been here for me enough. So thank you so much!

Kris was currently in Marc's living room, freaking the actual fuck out. Marc had forced him to come stay at his house so the goalie could keep an eye on him. They had just been sitting on the couch watching tv when Kris had started to fell around on his upper chest/neck area, "Where is it!?" He frantically whispered, "Where the fuck is it!?" Kris said louder, "Oh my God, where the fuck is it!?" He stood up and searched the floor, and looked and then sat on the ground, staring at the wall. 

"Kris what are you even looking for?" Marc asked. No answer. "Kris? Tanger? Kristopher?" Nothing, just staring and then some tears. "Kris Letang," he said louder, trying to get Kris's attention.

The defenseman just sat there for a few minutes, and then finally, "Marc, I lost the most important thing I own, I fucking lost it," he murmured. 

"What is it Kris?" Marc asked again, trying to stay patient. 

"It's a silver chain, and it has a ring on it, a silver ring," Kris said, staring at his feet, looking distraught. 

"Ok, I'll get you another one Kris, it's fine," Marc replied. 

Kris glared at him, "You can't just get me another one!" He exploded, "I need my necklace! I need to find it," 

"Ok, ok, sorry, we can go look for it," Marc said, "I'll find it, I promise," he needed Kris to calm down. His jaw was banged up, and screaming wasn't doing any good, "Go put on some clothes and let's go," Kris stood up. He was shirtless with a pair of sweat pants hanging low on his hips. Marc was surprised Kris was walking around without his shirt. The little crisscrossing scars on his back were usually hidden by some sort of shirt. There were more scars than Marc had seen last time they were in the locker room getting dressed, or maybe he just had missed them (it's not like he stared at Kris when he was naked, total violation of the bro code and all unspoken locker room etiquette). He had some shallow scratches down his right pec, and his ribs were black and blue on the left side. Marc saw a bruise disappearing into Kris's pants, and starting on the top of his right hip. Kris's face was also a bit worse for wear. Bruising around his jaw line, and his teeth were wired shut. A black eye, stitches holding a gash closed above the other eye, his nose was crooked and red and tender. His lip was split, and overall, Kris looked like he had been in a gang fight. 

The defenseman came out, a long sleeve shirt, just a little too tight on the biceps on with a pair of blue jeans and some boots. He had a fuzzy gold beanie that looked like it had faded after years of wearing it. When Marc got a good look at the back, a small LB was stitched into it, and then he knew why Kris wore it so much. They drove to the hospital and asked the lost and found, but came up empty. Next they went to the rink and searched the training room. Marc went to the little room that Kris had been in during the whole crazy attack. It was dark so Marc turned on the flashlight to his phone and searched. In the corner, he found a broken silver chain, and a little dented, slightly cracked, silver ring. Marc grabbed them and took them to Kris. "Tanger! I found your necklace!" 

 

Kris hugged him so hard, and took the necklace and the ring with a huge sigh of relief. Marc swore Kris had tears in his eyes, but he wouldn't say anything, as long as Kris was okay. 

…….…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Marc had made Kris stay over a lot, looking out for him, and making sure he was going to be alright. The defenseman often got pissed off at Marc's hovering and when the goalie tried to take care of him. Sometimes, Kris really needed it though. He often felt bad about himself and the extra attention ever hurt. He put on a strong front for the team's sake. Everybody had been pretty shaken up after the whole hospital trip, so Kris tried to act like he was fine. 

At night sometimes, he would cry himself to sleep, trying to fathom and understand something he had wondered since child hood, why didn't his father love him? Was he really a bad person? Did he deserve it? Catherine called him every two weeks or so to check up and make sure he was doing alright and to tell him a little about Alex and what was going on with their son. Kris found he enjoyed the discussions a lot, and he longed to go see his son, to know him. The same old argument in his mind would come up and wrestle for hours, but each time he would remind himself that it was for Alex's good that he never met Kris. 

Kris was glad when he was finally able to play again. He had a lot less on his mind when he played hockey, it had oddly enough become a sort of safe haven for him. He was kind of rocky at first, but then his play was really good for a little while. Then he wasn't. He played an awful couple of games and it all lead up to one awful night.


	44. The Crimson Stained Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So... This is it... I'm getting a little emotional right now. Thank you so much to Ihavenotwittypunforthisusername, throughout this entire journey you have been here for me and I can not express my gratitude enough. Anyone else out there who's has read and commented or just read, thank you too! I couldn't have done anyon this without you guys!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Attention!!!! 
> 
> This chapter contains some very dark and mature themes! Read with caution. It may cause tears.

The latest loss was too much for Kris. He was playing so bad lately, it wasn't even funny. His jaw still wasn't quite right, and everything just hurt. Not physically, but his mental state was getting shakier by the day. The looks he got from his teammates, everyone knew he was going through a rough time, but some of the newer guys would just shake their heads at him. It hurt, all these looks, they made him feel so worthless, and Coach just looked at him with this damn sympathetic frown all the time and Kris was so sick of it all. He sat up in his dark room, he was too restless, sleep was out of the question. He went out to the living room and picked up the envelope on the counter. He pulled on a jacket and locked the door before going to his car. Kris drove the familiar route to Consol. 

He used his pass to get in the dark rink and he went to the locker room. He walked around, looking at each of his teammate's stalls and paused at Flower's. Kris kept going around, pausing one last time at his own stall. He walked down the tunnel and out onto the ice carefully. Kris felt in his pocket. His picture of Luc was there, the team picture from when they won the cup and a picture of Marc. He felt around in his other pocket and the envelope was there. He pulled his phone out and dialed the familiar number. The phone rang and then after a few minutes the answering machine picked up, 

Hey it's Marc, leave a message. Kris closed his eyes and he quietly spoke into the phone, 

"Hey Marc, it's Kris, I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am. I know that I never could be the kind of friend you are and I'm sorry that I hurt the team. I hurt your chances of winning the cup. I'm just so sorry," he said softly, "I just wanted to say goodbye and thank you for everything," Kris hung up. Everything was ready. He had managed to not screw this up at least. Kris slowly reached into the pocket his jacket. He pulled out the lone item that he had shoved in there a couple of weeks ago. As Kris held it and stared at it, he heard all the voices, all the criticisms that he knew were true. Worthless, stupid, idiot, mistake, not good enough, screw up, it's all your fault. Kris wanted it all to just stop. It had to end. He had messed enough up. Kris took a deep breath, everything had started on the ice, it was only fitting it ended on ice as well, he took the razor blade he had brought and jammed it into his wrist. It hurt like a bitch, and Kris swore, but he just jammed it in deeper. He had no idea how long it was before he was on the ground. He grabbed the small ring that was dangling from his neck, and held it as the pain coursed through him. Kris sighed in relief as he started to drift into the peaceful, dark oblivion, he only hoped that who ever found him delivered the envelope to Marc. It was vital that his best friend received it. Kris thought he heard something, and he forced his eyes to open slightly. Everything was blurry, all he saw was red, and as he let his consciousness leave, Kris chuckled weakly at the irony, sending himself into a small coughing fit. Once again, it was his blood that stained the ice crimson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be releasing an authors note probably on Sunday! Thanks again guys, it's been fun!


	45. Author's Note PLEASE READ!!

Hey Guys! So this Update will contain acknowledgements for The Crimson Stained Ice and my future plans. So first, here are the acknowledgements and a little note to all of my readers. 

Table of Content  
Paragraph 1- General Acknowledgements  
Paragraph 2- People who commented: Please read!  
Paragraph 3- Personal Messages to each person who commented  
Paragraph 4- Bookmarkers  
Paragraph 5- Anyone who left Kudos  
Paragraph 6- Kris Letang  
Paragraph 7- Going Forward (future projects and what I’m working on now)  
Comment Hall of Fame  
Hook for New Story

General Acknowledgements  
First I need to start by thanking my very best friend. She has written something of her own on Wattpad and her Psued is naomidominiqu11. I suggest you read her piece because it is super cool and original. She has put up with me rambling on and on about this story, she read the unedited version, gave me amazing ideas, and let me bounce as many ideas off of her as I needed to. She is the most amazing person I could ever ask for to be my best friend and to read my pieces so thanks so much to her. Secondly, I need to thank my friend Maddie who is an amazing up and coming writer. She let me talk to her about this and listened intently and gave me feedback.  
Commenters  
Third, (this is my most important one) one very special reader deserves a huge thanks. ihavenotwittypunforthisusername, I would honestly not be here without you. I got to this point only because of your continual support throughout the entire story, all of your amazing comments and at the beginning when you urged me to post the story. You truly are an amazing reader and I could not be more grateful for you. I would like to unofficially dedicate this story to you and when I get to future projects in the next part of this not, there is another story that with your permission, I would like to dedicate to you as well. Thanks so much! Fourth, I need to thank hayward_99, Laurrren, watchdog24401, THE_TOASTER_THAT_COULD, and last but definitely not least lurkinginmysecretshamecave. Each and everyone of you left me some amazing comments and here is a little blurb about what I appreciated most about your comments. To start, lurkinginmysecretshamecave: you were there right at the beginning and along with ihavenotwittypunsforthisusername you encouraged me to post this. I don’t know if I could ever thank you enough for that because this whole journey of writing and posting this story has been amazing.  
So thank you so much. hayward_99: you showed up not too long after I started and stuck around for the rest. Every time you commented, it brought a huge smile to my face and made my entire day so thanks so much for taking the time you did to comment because I loved each and every one. Laurrren: I loved every comment you left me because each one told me how you were feeling and almost every time it was exactly what I was hoping for to a t. You are an amazing reader and all of your comments gave me a boost and made me want to write more so I would get another one. I really appreciate you reading and sticking around with me to the very end. THE_TOASTER_THAT_COULD: I think you left me two comments on this fic, but I really absolutely loved both of them. They were amazingly encouraging and awesome comments. I was so excited to read them when you commented and even though there were only two, they are among my favorite comments that I have received. Finally watchdog24401: I really loved that you told me it made you cry. I absolutely love hearing that because that is pretty much the wanted reaction. Thank you so much for reading and taking the time to comment!  
Bookmarkers  
Next, I want to move on to Bookmarkers. I appreciate a bookmark just as much if not more than a comment. I wish I could leave each and everyone of you a personal message like I did with the comments, but I don’t have anything that I could say. Thank you to stephrett, cocolombia, ryankirkland4277, ihavenotwittypunsforthisusername ;), and DeeDa84. You guys are great. Thanks so much!  
Kudos  
Next, anyone who left me kudos, again I wish I could leave each person a message but there are so many of you. I simply want to say thank you to you all. Thanks: nycgirl1996, raleighpuppy, Countrygirl83, Emrose2096, burningavenues, klingbergs, Laurrren, annemay7, watchdog24401, meegincolleen, CrimeGirl101, emcc, turva_auto, cocolombia, THE_TOASTER_THAT_COULD, ihavenotwittypunsforthisusername, hayward_99, heyheyhockeytown, ryankirkland4277, Habs_fan1909, goma24, ADF42, DeeDa84, backseatdriver, Kenarik, lurkinginmysecretshamecave, bddancer98, and all 12 guests.  
Kris Letang  
I think that covers acknowledgements besides thanking Kris Letang for being the absolute most awesome person haha and my favorite hockey player. This wouldn’t exist if he didn’t so why not include him. :)  
Going Forward  
Ok, now I’m on to what I am working on now. First of all I need to address the end of The Crimson Stained Ice. There will be a sequel. I’m debating titles, it possibly could be called The Light At the End of the Tunnel or Picking up the Pieces. I’m not sure yet. That is not going to be up for a while just so you guys know. The next thing I am working on is to finish Everything Happens For a Reason, I am almost finished with that and it will probably be finished by February at the very latest (I’m hoping). Then I have a whole new idea that I would like to at least start. That will be centered around Kris Letang and and OC character I made up. I think I am going to try and work on the sequel to Crimson and the new story at the same time and see how that works out. At the bottom I will post the description for my whole new story, and hopefully I will be able to update Everything Happens For a Reason soon.  
Comment Hall of Fame for this Story:

Let’s start with the very first two that I received on this story: 

lurkinginmysecretshamecave:

“Eeeeeeeek its starting! * happy claps* thank you for taking the time to work and post this.”

ihavenotwittypunsforthisusername:

“Omg im so happy you wrote it!!! YAYAYAYAYAYAY”

These two are awesome!!!!!

Next is another one from lurkinginmysecretshamecave

lurkinginmysecretshamecave:

“Every time I see an update I tell myself ‘no’. Don’t do it. Heartache and pain follow that path. But I’m a sucker for angst and always develop FEELS ALL IN CAPS for mistreated-puppies-in-the-rain situations. Ugh. But it’s so well written and hauntingly beautiful. Keep it up. Thanks for taking the time to write and share.” 

I honestly can’t even with this comment. It is one of my favorites. EVER!

One from ihavenotwittypunsforthisusername and two from hayward_99

ihavenotwittypunsforthisusername:

“AHHHHHH WEVE SEEN THE NHL AND LUC *heart eyes*” 

I so love this comment because that is how I felt when I wrote it. 

hayward_99:

“Michel is a capital D-Dick! BUT YAY LUC AND NICE NICE TEAMMATES!!! I hope Kris’s next games go better than this one. A great chapter as always, I can’t wait for more I loooove this story!” 

And

“Wow Petr way to be a dick. Like back the fuck off. You do you Kris and go Luc for sticking up for him! Also, why they gotta care so much about him changing in front them? Why does they gotta be all up in his business? How rude. Great chapters, I always look forward to the end of the week for the story!! :) 

(Too bad to make a good story everybody has to be a dick to the main character :((((( Makes me sad for Kris. That poor poor baby boy!)” 

These two made me laugh out loud multiple times. I need to limit myself now, only like 2-3 more or I will end up putting all of them on here.  
Okay, One from Laurrren (I wanted to include so many of yours but I settled on this one) and one from THE_TOASTER_THAT_COULD (I love both, but I only have time to put one more.)

Laurrren: 

“I was reading through the 10is chapters that have been updated and BAM I read the last chapter and my heart breaks. I was so excited about the update and the fact that the team found out and was trying to help him, that I didn’t even bother reading the tags! Even though this fic has broken my heart and made me cry so many times, I’m sad to see it end and I am so thankful that you wrote this story. Can’t wait for your next one :’)” 

Gahh, this made me so happy!! Thankks so muuuchhh!

And Finally 

THE_TOASTER_THAT_COULD

“OH MY GOD IM ACTUALLY DYING THIS WAS SO GOOD I WAS NOT EXPECTING IT TO END THIS WAY YOU DID SUCH A GOOD JOB WITH THIS THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR WRITING IT” 

I LOVE THIS COMMENT!!! haha

 

Bonus:

I needed to include this one because it killed me. 

ihavenotwittypunsforthisusername: 

“TEAR JERKWR?! I cant type im cryingggggggff” 

I laughed so hard at this. 

There is no particular order to these BTW. 

 

Last two things, I promise. 

Hook for my new story: 

Dating a professional Athlete is hard enough. When said athlete is both very famous and your teammate… well that’s a little more crazy. How about adding that this athlete is a girl playing in the NHL and 7 years your junior: well that’s insane. Kris Letang is pretty sure he is insane. 

Could possibly call it Beyond the Rink or Dating the MVP but still unsure. 

 

Anyone who is thanked in this document for some reason or another can contact me by email: you can find it in my profile, and request the first chapter of my new story/ and or the sequel to Crimson early. Only the first chapter of each will be available and you may have to wait for the new story because I need to start that. 

 

That is going to be it for me. Thanks so much to everybody. This ride was crazy but I am so glad I took it. :) See ya guys real soon with some new stuff!

 

Thanks!!!!  
Kris Letang


End file.
